Lock and Key
by The Whispering Panda
Summary: The sequel to Of the Insane. The key to the Games is to have the perfect strategy. Who has what it takes to unlock it and rise victorious? There's only one way to find out... *CLOSED*
1. Welcome to the Games

**A/N: If you want to submit a tribute, please PM either primrose98 or me the profile. If your tribute is usbmitted in a review, it WILL NOT BE USED.**

Panem. The one part of it that people see is the gleaming city of the Capitol. Surrounded by new technology, power driven leaders and beauty obsessed citzens, it's viewed as the world's most wealthy country.

If only they knew.

The rest of the country is made up of 12 districts, trying to fly under the radar in fear of the Capitol's wrath.

In order to avoid the consequences, each district sends one male and one female tribute to be meaningless pawns in the Annual Hunger Games. 24 enter the arena, vying for the title of Victor. For the fame and riches that comes along with it. Only one will return.

Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be_ ever_ in your favor.

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><p><strong>Here's the current tribute list:<strong>

**District One**

M- Jay Red, 15 (purplestripedmaniac)

F- Maril Rane, 14 (Headmund)

**District Two**

M- Sanjay Lesa, 18 (neb88)

F- Lucetta "Luce" Winter, 17 (Nightfall12)

**District Three**

M-Ash Hunt, 14 (Me)

F- Cordin Vasquez, 14 (I'mALittleCinna)

**District Four**

M- Rip Waters, 16 (petemidnight13)

F- Brooke Waters, 16 (EverAbernathyFan)

**District Five**

M- Tyler Grimes, 15 (Headmund)

F- Rosebud Snider, 13 (Me)

**District Six**

M- Grover Buse, 14 (Me)

F- Anna Sellta, 16 (neb88)

**District Seven**

M- Jacob Frond, 17 (random person113)

F- Hime Saisori, 13 (BeyBay)

**District Eight**

M- Comet Jet, 15 (Me)

F- Kyra Reed, 15 (Skywriter5)

**District Nine**

M- Granite Hall, 16 (Me)

F- Emilliea "Emmie" Froste, 15 (ImAgOpHeR12344)

**District Ten**

M- Damon Ryder, 16 (PJ and HP are my life)

F**- **Alana Burg, 16 (I'mALittleCinna)

**District Eleven**

M- Sorrel Nicholas, 12 (Me)

F- Meghan Belis, 15 (purplestripedmaniac)

**District Twelve**

M- Reno Bolven, 16 (fishe153)

F-Penelope Brown, 13 (BookFreak112)


	2. A Reaping in the Luxury District

**A Message From The Panda: Check out the following stories! It would mean a lot to me and the authors! Here are the stories:**

**1) 36th Hunger Games SYOT by random person113**

**2) The 94th Hunger Games by purplestripedmaniac**

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><p><em>District One<em>

**Jay Red's POV**

I step out of the house, feeling nervous. I wish I could tell my dad, only I know he would scold me for showing emotion.

It's so hot outside. I walked out barely a minute ago and I'm starting to sweat though my grey jacket.

I finally locate a spot in the sea of people and sit down.

"Ladies fist!" squeals our escort, who annoys me more and more each year. She clears her throat and slowly reads the first name.

"Maril Rane." I don't watch as the girl walks up to the podium. Instead, I pick at my nails and avoid eye contact with anyone- especially my father.

"Now for the gentlemen!" Even she's sweating... you can tell by her mascara that's starting to drip down her pasty face.

"Chord Ka-", before she can finish, the words escape my mouth.

"I voulunteer!" My heart races. Not because of the fact that I may die in the next few weeks, but because I'm anxious to see my dad's reaction. His face is lit up, something I've never seen before. He mouths the words 'I'm proud of you.' I walk up to the podium and shake hands with the girl. All eyes are on us as we walk away to say our good-byes. My father looks at me and throws his arms around my chest. Hesitant, I hug him back. A warm feeling runs though my body.

He whispers in my ear, "Do good, son. Alright?" I release my grip and nod. He walks out of the building, wiping away a tear.

**Maril Rane's POV**

The sun blazes down on my head. My thick, brown hair is scattered across my back and shoulders. Even though my family insists it looks "stunning" like this, I take an elastic from my skirt pocket and put it up in a bun. It's coarse from the hairspray that I put in, despite my mother's request not to. I knew I should've listened to her.

I find a spot next to several girls, chatting about how heroic their family members were when they won previous Games. I roll my eyes, insuring myself that they have no idea about what really goes on.

Our escort walks up to the podium in her sky-high heels, that must be at least 5 inches tall. She's already about 5 feet, 9 inches, so she soars above the rest of the crowd. I giggle, wishing for her to trip.

Winded from the walk up the stairs, she squeaks in her obnoxious tone, "Ladies first!" She bends down to the reaping bowl, where hundreds of tiny white slips sit. I take a deep breath. She reads out a name. My mother collapses into my father's arms, and my father puts an assuring arm around her. My little brother, Ty, gives me a re-assuring look.

It's not any of my classmates. Or a neighbor. I'm stunned to hear that the name belongs to me.

Still in a daze, I say my good-byes. My father gives me a brief, tight hug and looks me in the eyes with a sad smile.

"Do well, alright?" He blows a kiss, then leaves the room. My brother follows him out.

In his tiny 3-year-old voice, he says, "Bye, Maryyyy! See you tomorrow!" My hearts sinks. He'll have to make the harsh realization that I won't see him for a while. My mother is the last to wish me well. She doesn't say anything, but hugs me for the longest time.

Once she lets go, she whispers in my ear, "I love you. Come home, ok?" I nod, and let a tear slip down my face. She holds me one last time, then slowly walks out the door. I prepare myself for the transition from home to hostage.

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><p><strong>District One, done! Look forward to District Two! I apologize sincerely for the mix-up. <strong>


	3. A Reaping in the Masonry District

**A Message From The Panda: I just thought I'd let you know that Lucetta Winter was the first tribute submitted, and Sanjay Lesa was the last tribute submitted. Interesting... **

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><p><em>District Two<em>

**Lucetta "Luce" Winter's POV**

I brush out my long black hair and hold it out of my face with a headband. I apply a thick layer of mascara and blue eyeliner that makes my blue-grey eyes pop. My sky-blue dress and silver heels make me look older than 17. I conclude my preperation for the reaping by perfecting my make-up and straightening my dress. I've always had the need to be this way; perfect.

I head downstairs and meet up with my arrogent, stuck-up family of Victors. Brushing past Kailey, my shallow 15 year old sister, and nearly shoving Crane, my obnoxious 18 year old brother, I lead my entire family (except for my grandmother, Rose, who is too ill to leave her bed) down the roads of the Victor's Village and into town, where the square is already crowded with people.

I hate reapings. Always have. The big crowds are too much for me. I like to be where it's quiet, with Gabriel, my best friend. He's the only person I can trust. Most people think I'm shy. But I'm not. I guess I'm just simply anti-social.

I stand alone near the back of the 17 year old section. I spot Gabriel. He smiles at me. I return it immediately. He mouths the words "good luck", and before I can wish it back, our escort trots onto the stage and the reaping begins.

"Ladies first!" Otus Bean, our escort, moans in his unusually deep, milky voice. I stifle a laugh.

Most escorts squeal. Otus drones. Gabriel and I can't help making fun of him, because apparently that's how he sounds when he's excited.

Otus litteraly bounds over to the glass ball that holds the girls' names and picks a slip from somewhere in the middle. Then he opens his mouth to read the name. And what I hear surprises me even more than his strange voice.

"Lucetta Winter."

At first my stomach lurches, but I keep my composure. After all, I'm a Winter. My family is famous for having a Victor in nearly every generation. I've been trained for this my entire life. My parents have told me stories of previous Games to prepare me for anything. Which is why, when Otus asks for Volunteers, no one steps up. I'm probably the best person to go into these Games, and they all know it. I have a very good chance of winning. And that's all this District cares about, anyway.

Winning.

If a tribute has a good chance of winning, there are no volunteers. It's rare, but it's happened. I should know. It just happened to me.

**Sanjay Lesa's POV**

Otus and Lucetta stand awkwardly on the stage as no one volunteers. I've only seen this happen in District Two once before, seven years ago, when I was 11. Gunner Penn was reaped. He was a strong, healthy 18 year old, and everyone was confident he would win. And he did. Now he's turned to a Capitol freak and has had multiple surgureys in his struggle to remain thin after pigging out for years.

Now Otus bounces over to the boy's ball and snatches a name from the bottom. He begins to read the name, "Alecai Tre-"

"I volunteer!" I shout. The gruff boy a few feet away from me growls as a push past him to get onto the stage. Alecai's also eightieen, and this was his last chance to get into the Games. It's also my last chance. And I'm not giving it up for _anything._

"Well, well, well," Otus says pleasantly. "What is your name, young man?"

"Sanjay," I say. "Sanjay Lesa."

"Well, Sanjay, welcome to the Games! Lets hear it for the District Two Tributes!" The audience cheers. Lucetta's family, the Winters, cheer the loudest. I shake Lucetta's hand and am led into the Justice Building for goodbye's.

The first people who come in are my parents and my little sister, Pigeon. There are hugs and "good lucks", and some tears from Pigeon, who's only five, and really doesn't know where I'm going.

After they leave, it's a while before anyone comes. Then my only friend, Tret, walks in.

"Hey man, how's it going?"

"Awesome. I'm gonna come back in a couple weeks, and then we'll be _one easy street_."

"Hehe... yeah, you know it! So I'll see ya then, okay?"

"Alright..." We share an akward goodbye, then he leaves and I board the train.


	4. A Reaping in the Technology District

**A Message From The Panda: I used to be PandaFellOffTheSlide, but I changed it.**

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><p><em>District Three<em>

**Cordin Vasquez, 14 POV**

I wipe the beads of sweat off of my forehead and try to rub off the blush my sister Elaine ambushed me with. No, really. When I turned around the make-up brush was in my face and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

"Your sister is right, Cordin," my mother chimes. "You should at least clean yourself up for the reaping."

Even though I managed to get most of it off, the rosy color still stains my cheeks. I don't feel under-dressed in my denim skirt and tank top with silver strappy sandals. In fact, this is the nicest I've probably looked in a while...

I take a seat next to a few other 14 year old girls who are stressing about if they look too casual. I can tell they're from the wealthier area of the district, because they have on gold and diamond jewelry, along with dresses made of high-end fabric.

I don't pay attention to our escort. To be honest, I don't actually know their name. The voice is altered and the body is so touched up by the Capitol, I don't even know their gender. But I still hear, "Ladies first!" pop out of their mouth.

I cross my fingers and look down with my eyes closed, hoping that it's not me. But with my luck, I'm not surprised. The name is mine.

I flip out. I can't control my anger as I scream and thrash, trying to break the Peacekeepers' iron grip. My efforts are worthless. They drag me up to the stage and hold my wrists, making sure that there's no way I can possibly move.

I breathe heavily, savoring each breath. They will be some of the last ones I take.

**Ash Hunt's POV**

I should've known.

With my luck, I'm not surprised that it was my name pulled out of the reaping ball.

I've always hated the Games. Memories of my sister Sequioa flood my mind. I shutter at the fact that in this very competition she lost her life to a stupid Career. My mother should be here now, too. She should be the one to hug me tight and tell me it was okay, that I would come home in no time at all.

She SHOULD be here. She's gone now. Everyone knew she was sick, but even the doctor couldn't determine exactly what was wrong. So Mom sat in bed for the rest of her life. We got so many visitors for her that cared, but I didn't want anyone to pretend they knew her. I was only nine when she died.

In the Justice Building, it's only my dad and I. He won the 157th Games, so he must know what he's doing. He wraps his arms around me for a brief hug. I lightly hug him back.

Every time he tries to speak, he can't. He's too choked up to talk. Once he lets me go, I feel cold.

Dad tells me to grab what you can without getting in trouble with oher tributes, then run. He tells me that he loves me, and walks out of the building without another word.

I'm led onto the train to the Capitol, having no idea of what's to come.


	5. A Reaping in the Fishing District

**A Message From The Panda: Both thr tributes from District Four have the last name "Waters". Coincidence? Also, we would appreciate it if the creators of the tributes left reviews to let us know if we're portraying their tribute correctly, and if not, how we can improve.**

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><p><em>District Four<em>

**Rip Waters' POV**

I perfect my copper hair. Then I walk by myself to the reaping because I have no family. I live by myself and work a small job as a fisherman. I dropped out of school and train when I'm not working. The Games are my life.

This year I'll volunteer.

This year I'll become a victor.

I stand alone in the 16 year old boys' section. The escort, Peanut Juneberry, dances across the stage.

"Ladies first!" he squeals. "Brooke Waters!"

What? Waters? She's not related to me. In fact, I've never seen her before in my life, even though we're the same age. I wrinkle my nose at the red-headed girl who walks up to the stage. Someone tries to volunteer, but she glares them down, and they recoil.

This is my opponent? My District partner? Psh. Right away I can see all her flaws; it's my specialty. Finding people's flaws and weaknesses. Her red hair is too bright. When the sun reflects off of it, it burns me eyes. Here emerald green eyes are unnaturaly bright. But I can tell she's sneaky. Better watch out for her.

**Brooke Waters' POV**

I smile smugly as Peanut does his signature dance over to the boys' ball. Then he calls out the name.

"Rip Water-"

"I voluntee-" a voice says, but stops before it finishes. A 16 year old boy shrinks back into the croud, embarrassment clearly on his cheeks. Probably one of those wusses pressured into volunteering and then back down at the last second.

"Do you volunteer?" Peanut asks. The boy collects himself and stands tall.

"No."

"Wait, what?"

"I do not volunteer. I_ am_ Rip Waters."

"Oh! Alrighty, then. Any volunteers?" Nobody speaks. We all know not to mess with Rip. Even though I've never met him and didn't know what he looked like until this moment, but his name is well-known. Rip Waters is NOT someone you mess with.

He comes up to the stage and we shake hands. He glares at me critically. Whatever. I smile back at him. He seems taken aback by this. Good. It's time someone knocked him down a few pegs.


	6. A Reaping in the Power District

**A Message From The Panda: I just want to thank everyone who has submitted a tribute; they're all wonderful! And to those of you reviewing: Thanks! But, once the Games begin, if you don't review, your tribute has a lower chance of surviving. You don't have to review _every _chapter, but if you don't review for five chapters or so, we won't be very happy.**

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><p><em>District Five<em>

**Tyler Grimes's POV**

I walk into my row joking around with my friend, Kyle. We take the only two open spots. Everyone from the district is here, and the place is packed, as always.

The people surrounding us are tense, hoping that the slip drawn doesn't belong to them. Not that I want to be put into the Games, but I think they're over-reacting.

The reaping ball is gigantic. It must be 5 feet wide and 3 feet tall. Even though it's a little more than half-way full, I'm sure that our unnaturally skinny escort can fit into it without a problem. She taps on the microphone, and it already quiets down. After a speech about the Games, it's time for the reaping.

"Ladies first!" She stuffs her hand in the ball and pulls out a slip.

"Rosebud Snider," she pipes and looks around. A girl walks up to the podium with her face buried in her hands. Our escort shoves her hand back in the bowl and pulls out another slip.

"Tyler Grimes," she reads. My heart thumps as I slowly walk up to the podium, trying to catch my parents' reaction. I guess I'm not fast enough, because the District mayor signals me to move faster. I stand up on the podium and think about who I will miss. I'm not _that_ close to Kyle. And even though they lost my brother, my parents can move on without me.

Maybe...

**Rosebud Snider's POV**

No. It can't be happening. Out of the hundreds, probably thousands of names, mine had to be picked.

I don't expect to survive. These skills are something my family has always lacked. My twin sister died in a fire when we were 7, and my 15-year-old brother died in the Games last year. My parents are the only ones I have left, and I'm the only child _they_ have left.

They walk into the Justice Building holding hands. My mother is crying quietly, my father trying to console her. At the same time, they wrap their arms around me, and I hug back. They've lost all of their other children. I know I have to win now.

My parents don't say much, just the stuff they should tell me. That they love me, they know I can win, and to make allies but ditch them at the final 5. I nod my head, trying to choke back tears. Mom and Dad wave good-bye.

I try to make small talk with my district partner, Tyler. He seems alright.

As we board the train I close my eyes, trying to block out the thoughts of will come ahead.


	7. A Reaping in the Transportation District

**A Message From The Panda: It would be very lovely if you could come to my Forum: If We Burn, You Burn With Us. It would be great if we could expand our tiny forum, and I would like to get to know you guys! You can find a hyperlink to the forum on my profile! So, with that said, I give you: District Six!**

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><p><em>District Six<em>

**Anna Sellta's POV**

I brush my dirty blonde hair back. For some reason it won't stay down. It keeps poofing back up. I stomp into the bathroom, turn on the faucet, cup my hands under the flow of water and fill them, then pour the water over my head. There. Now it'll stay down.

I go back to my room and begin to apply my makeup. First my eyes. I put on a thick line of eyeliner and volumize my lashes with three layers of mascara. Then I put on my black eyeshadow.

Next is my lips. I put on my cotton candy lip gloss. Finally, I spray my neck with perfume and look at the final product.

My eyes look extra-intense with all the black surrounding them. My lips sparkle in the fluorescent lighting. My knee-length pink dress fits me perfectly. Alright, I'm ready.

My mother and I walk to the reaping. I spot my father in the crowd. He was sent to rehab to help him with his morphling addiction. I never see him anymore.

I stand next to my best friend, Astra. Nameless others swarm around me, complimenting my outfit, my hair, or just blabbing about something that happened last weekend.

Of course, I don't _actually_ like them, but they give me my power. They'll do anything to be popular. One of them even took the blame for me after getting in trouble at school, and got expelled. For them, just being associated with my name is incredible.

I sigh and wait for the mayor to end his speech. Finally, the escort, who's name I forgot, walks over to the girl's ball. She pulls the first name she touches, obviously wanting to move the reaping along quicker. I bet it's because of the heat.

"Anna Sellta!" she calls. I walk up to the stage confidently. When I get up there, I flash a winning smile to the crowd. I know one of my minions will volunteer for me.

"Any volunteers?" our escort asks. No one speaks. My smile disappears as the reality of it hits me.

I am going into the Hunger Games.

**Grover Buse's POV**

The escort shuffles over to the boy's ball. Again, she grabs a name from the top.

"Grover Buse!"

My mouth drops in disbelief. What about Bailey, my twin sister? Who's going to take care of her now that I'm gone? Our parents sure won't. They're so high on morphling, they barely exist. They just sit at our kitchen table, staring into space, feeding their addiction.

I slip out of the fourteen year old section and walk up to the stage. No one speaks up when the escort asks for volunteers.

I catch Bailey's eye as we're ushered into the Justice Building. A tear rolls down her cheek.

Inside the room, Bailey tackles me. I give her a tight hug and whisper into her hair, "It's going to be alright." I want it to be. Every fiber of my being wishes for it to be alright. But a small part of me knows that is won't be. That my chances of survival are lower than Anna's and pretty much every other tributes'.

Bailey pulls back, wiping tears away. "Goodbye, Grover. I love you. And I'll be fine. Really. I can take care of myself. Everything's going to be okay."

I smile, feeling tears well up in my eyes. But I'm not going to cry.

Bailey and I sit on the couch together until the guard makes her leave. Then I drag my feet on my way to the train.

**Anna Sellta's POV**

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?" I yell at all the girls in the room. I already said goodbye to Astra and my mom, so they're not in the room. But the frightened girls who I were sure would do anything to be liked by me are. Some of them begin to cry. Others just shrink back into the wall.

"YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO VOLUNTEER! I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS! FRIENDS HELP EACH OTHER! FRIENDS ARE LOYAL TO EACH OTHER! _YOU_ GUYS ARE _NOT_ MY FRIENDS!" They open their mouths to apologize, but I point at the door. They file out silently.

I board the train, a scowl glued to my face.


	8. A Reaping in the Lumber District

**A Message From The Panda: Sorry this took so long to get up! Hope everyone is having a good school year so far! Njoi the chapter!**

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><p><em>District Seven<em>

**Jacob Frond's POV**

I walk up to the 17-year-old section. I can't stand the reapings. This is my sixth and my dread only grows more and more each year.

Sam, a friend of mine, stands next to me. I can tell he's just as distraught as I am. In front of me is Fred, another one of my friends. He is just the opposite of Sam and me. He waits every year for the reapings to volunteer, but he won't do it until he thinks he's "strong" enough. I pity him sometimes. Training is the only thing he really has. I roll my eyes as the District Seven mayor delivers his hour-long speech.

I do anything I can to distract myself. Drum my fingers on my silver cufflings, tap my feet to a catchy song (even though I don't know many...), or pick my nails. But then Sam tells me I look girly when I do that, so I stop. Despite my efforts, I've only managed to pass about 15 minutes. _Nice going, Jacob,_ I tell myself. _Only 40 more minutes of dread to go- yipee,_ my mind says sarcastically.

I zone out for a little, but before I know it, our obnoxious and a-little-too peppy escort is stepping toward the reaping ball. He has some strange Capitol name that I can't quite pronounce.

"Ladies first!" he cheers, and draws a name out reaping ball. "Josie Kooper!" A tall girl with a young face steps out of the crowd, but another girl, whose name is Hime Saisori, volunteers. Both girls are hugging and crying until a Peacekeeper has to pry one off the other.

Then it's the boys' turn. Our escort digs his hand in the boys' reaping ball and pulls out a name. Not just any name. This name is differrent... special. It sends chills up my spine.

The name belongs to me.

**Hime Saisori's POV**

What have I done? I've basically commited suicide. I'll never make it. My tiny 13-year-old body is shaking. There is _no_ way I will ever be able to compete against the Careers, who are twice my size.

Once I'm in the Justice Building, I greet my family. As soon as the crying stops, I burst out into tears again.

I say a quick goodbye to my family. I can tell they don't really know what to say, and neither do I. My mother is too shaken to talk, but still tells me she loves me. My younger sister Ari is only nine, and still can't quite comprehend what's going on. She squeezes me tight and tells me thats she will see me soon. A cold feeling overcomes me. She won't see me soon. She won't see me ever again.

They leave, trying to console my panicking mother, who is now hypervenilating. Two of my best friends walk up to say goodbye to me. Jason gives me a hug and tells me that he's proud of me. I nod, and slowly let go of him. Josie is next. Salty tears drip down my face. We don't say anything to each other. She grabs my shoulders and gives me a hug. We stand for what seems likes hours on end, just crying.

Once she stops, she whispers "Thank you," and walks out of the building with Jason. I can't help but think of my dad, who died in these very games when he was 18.

I hop on to the Capitol train, taking a last look at District Seven, and everything I've ever known.


	9. A Reaping in the Textile District

**A Message From The Panda: This is the district of Doon Wainright, victor of the 175th Hunger Games.**

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><p><em>District Eight<em>

**Kyra Reed's POV**

I close my eyes and take in a deep breath through the nose. Today is reaping day. It's only noon, so I have a couple hours to kill, but I'm going to meet my friends Luna and Eli under our favorite oak tree, which Luna's nicknamed Olivia, for our annual reaping day meet-up. I'm not sure what significance Olivia has to any of us other than it's where we had our first play-date as toddlers.

There's a thick grey layer of clouds blanketing the sky. A light sprinkle starts to fall. It tickles my face and gives me a happy feeling, despite the date.

When I arrive at Olivia, I find Luna waiting under her leaves with the third addition to our little trio, Eli. I've had a crush on Eli for about three months now, but I doubt he feels anything back. Luna knows I like him, and the fact that she's a bit of a matchmaker has made her try to set us up in the past.

"Hey, Eli," I say casually. I've taught myself not to blush or smile shyly when I'm around him and can now control my usually shaky voice.

"Uh, hello Kyra." Eli is usually a lot more upbeat, but never on reaping day. His coal-black hair is combed back and he's dressed in a white button-up shirt and khaki slacks. He looks especially handsome. Luna isn't in her reaping outfit yet, and neither am I. I shuffle uncomfortably on my feet, self-concious about the way I look in the t-shirt and loose sweatpants I threw on before coming here.

"So, as usual, we'll all share one thing we'd like to say before the reaping, and then meet here again at seven tonight to celebrate our safety until next year," Luna says in her serious voice.

"Oh, Luna, do you mind if Tate tags along tonight? I'd like to celebrate his safety too," I ask. Tate is my twin brother. We used to fight all the time, but in the past year we've grown close, and I want him to be there when we go over how glad we all are that the others weren't reaped.

"Sure, go ahead. I don't mind. Eli?" Luna turns to him. He shrugs.

"Yeah, it's fine with me."

"Great. So, Kyra, how about you go first?" Luna always takes the role of group leader on reaping day.

"Okay. Well, Luna, we had a great year this year. Lots of good luck. Neither of us had any factory accidents, for once, and there haven't been any major trageties in either of our families. Hopefully that good luck will continue on until tonight. Eli," I start, turning to him. This is going to be harder than I thought. I really want to tell him how I feel, but I don't want to get shot down. Finally, I figure out what to say to him. "You're a really great friend. You're always there for me, and I know I didn't do a very good job of being there for you when you broke your arm in the factory. I'm sorry for that. I was too busy doing the things I wanted to instead of being there for you when you needed it most. Please fogive me."

"I forgive you," he says solomely. "And I guess I'll go next. Luna, you're crazy. You're so bubbly and optomistic, you would sometimes make me want to cut my ears off. But you do it all with good intentions, and that's what I like most about you. You're a really good poerson and a better friend." I can't stop the pang of jealousy that spreads inside me. "And Kyra, I know, this is so cliche, but I don't know if I should wait any longer. Kyra, I love you." By heart stops beating. My lungs stop working. I'm frozen in that moment where I realize that I was wrong. He does like me. No, he _loves _me.

"I- I- I like you a lot, Eli. I just haven't had the courage to tell you. You were brave enough to say something, but I wasn't. I wish I was more like you."

"I don't want you to be like me. I love you just the way you are." Overwhelmed with feelings of joy and relief, and hug him, a huge smile spreading across my face. He stumbles backwards, but hugs me back.

"Finally! Do you know how long I've been trying to get you two together? A long time. A very, very long time. I don't even know how long it's been." Luna joins our hug, holding me against Eli.

Thirty minutes and a lot of squeals from Luna later, I break away and go home to get ready for the reaping.

**Comet Jet's POV**

I run my hand through my hair, wishing I had some gel or spray or something to hold it back. I'd like to at least try to look presentable for the reaping. But we can't afford it. Even though my parents only have me to feed, we scarcely have enough food to live off of.

I'm very close to my parents, and they love me, but I can tell they think I'm a burden. I'm permanently crippled from a factory accident that happened in my first month of work two years ago, when I was thirteen. I walk with a make-shift crutch my father made for me out of a couple of branches off of the maple tree that struggles to survive in our front yard.

I wobble out of my room and into the kitchen/dining room/common room, thankful that we can't afford a two-story house. My mother wets her hands and pulls my hair back. It curls back into place after fifteen seconds, covering my eyes. I whip my head to the right and use a hand to momentarily keep the wild, curly mess off to the side.

"Oh, Honey, don't worry about it. It's no use," my mother says. My father tightens his faded gray tie that he only wears for the reapings and grabs his coat. In the past hour the rain's gone from a light sprinkle to a full-out dounpour. I pull on ym raincoat and fasten the hood over my head before stepping outside to begin the five minute walk to the town square.

When we get there, we have about twenty minutes until the reaping begins, but the place is already packed.

Nobody moves for me when I try to take my place among the other fifteen years olds, and I end up slipping on the wet ground and falling, pushing a tough-looking guy named Travis Corle in the process.

"Hey, watch it, dumb cripple." I pull myself up and scoot to the other side of the crowd. I end up standing next to Lori Wendell, the girl I was working next to when the accident happened. She nods at me shyly, then turns to the girl next to her and starts blabbing away.

I turn my attention to the stage, where Mayor Penn sits patiently. Our escort, Tradition Winterspell, stands under a bright blue umbrella so she doesn't get her skirt wet on the seat. The two mentors, Mindy Broder and Doon Wainright, sit next to each other.

Doon is the victor of last year's Games. Out of 72 tributes, who would have thought a seventeen yeard olf from District Eight would be the winner? Nobody, that's who.

But one year after his victory, Doon is a transformed human being. Now eighteen, Doon is much more confident, social, and popular than ever before. He has real friends and even a girlfriend named Abbey Skivan. She's extremely cute. He's always smiling now.

Mayor Penn does his speech, and then Tradition steps up. She starts with the girls and pulls out a name.

"Kyra Reed!" she trills. A gasp comes from a boy in front of me and the girl next to him shuffles up to the stage. There are no volunteers.

Then Tradition walks over to the boys' ball of names and digs around a bit before snatching a slip.

"Comet Jet!"

I hear my parents sigh. I know it's out of sadness, but I can't help but feel like it's a sigh of relief. Their life will be so much easier with me out of the picture.

I wobble to the stairs and a Peackeeper helps me up. I shake hands with Kyra and stand stiff, willing myself not to look at my parents. Forcing my face to be blank.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the tributes of District Eight!"

The same Peacekeeper who guided me up the stairs pushes me into the Justice Building. After a minute my parents burst into the room and hug me. Nothing is said for a good forty-five minutes. We just sit there, hugging and crying. Finally my mom breaks away and my father does the same.

"I love you, son. Never forget it. I'm sorry I couldn't have given you a better life. One you deserve," he says.

"Oh, I'm going to miss you, Comet. Please, please don't give up hope. Life is too precious. Promise me you'll do everything you can to come home," my mom says through sobs.

"I will. I promise," I reply, knowing in my heart that no matter what I do, I won't be coming home. I'm sure that deep down my mother knows that too, but she's not willing to admit it to herself.

**Doon Wainright's POV**

When the tributes come out of the Justice Building, I cup Abbey's hands in mine, not ready to say goodbye. I've been dreading this for about two and a half months.

"Abbey, I love you. I really do. Never forget that. And I'll be back in a few weeks. Promise you'll wait for me?"

"I promise," she whispers. She leans up and kisses me. I kiss her back. It's time to board the train.

As I step on, a flood of memories invades my brain. I try to push them out, but the horrors I witnessed last year fight back. I lean on a chair to keep my balance. When I'm able to clear my head of the thoughts, I walk to my room and take a shower.

I'm exhausted, so I decide to take a short nap before dinner. I fall asleep almost immediately after my head hits the pillow.

_I'm running toward the mountain. The glint of the Cornucopia hits my eye. I see Alicia's floating figure and my confidence is boosted. Gripping my sword in one hand and my fork in the other, I charge. She's caught off guard momentarily, but soon recovers and dives for me. Before I can stab her, her fingernails turn into claws and she scratches at my face._

_Soon I can't see a thing. She begins to pount at my chest, a hollow knock accompanying each blow. She knocks the wind out of me multiple times before taking her four-inch claws and slashing my throat._

I wake up with a start, soaked with sweat and shivering uncontrollably. The knocking I heard in my dream continues, and I realize someone's knocking at the door. I open it to find Tradition.

"It's time for dinner, Doon," she says formally and walks away, her outrageous heels clicking on the floor.


	10. A Reaping in the Grain District

**A Message From Prim: ** **Hey all- I know that by now, you're about to form an angry mob on us for not writing, but we're back! Now that the hectic start of school and Thanksgiving break are over, we have more time to write (well, for the most part). Since we're human, it doesn't necessarily mean that there will be updates everyday. Please understand that new chapters won't always come instantly. But I thank all of you guys for reading our story and supporting the tributes. Happy holidays to all!**

**Love,**

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><p><em>District Nine<em>

**Granite Hall's POV**

Against my will, I walk down to the reaping with Uncle Cobalt. To be honest, I'm not sure if it's possible to hate him any more than I already do. He murdered my mother. I saw it all, from behind the couch. I cringe at the thought of it.

He refuses to confess, and so does my father (who I'm convinced is officially mute or deaf by now).

I rub my forearm, which stings like hell after Cobalt slapped me this morning. As we separate into different groups- the citizens who aren't eligible and the 16 year olds- I'm thankful for the ropes seperating us and the mob of Peacekeepers. He can't hurt me this way.

As our obnoxious escort, Angie Coral, takes the stage (which is really a platform, since District 9 can't really afford much more) in her vomit green dress with a 4-foot long train, everyone claps. Except me.

Instead, I feel the urge to step on the train, making her trip. I grin at the thought.

"Hello, all! Welcome to the 176th annual Hunger Games reaping! Let's get started!" Angie chirps. She thrusts her hand in the glass ball and pulls out a single slip.

**Emilliea Frost's POV**

A Peacekeeper tugs my arm.

"Come on, kid. We don't have all day." I stare at him blankly. I've hated the Peacekeepers with a passion since they took away my parents. It wasn't fair- it wasn't my parents' fault we were going hungry.

I stumble to the stage, still not sure of what happened. The voice of our annoying escort wakes me as she calls out a boy's name- Granite Hall. I don't know the boy; District 9 is too big to know everyone. He attempts to shake my hand, which I don't realize until he turns away.

"Ladies and gentlemen: our tributes Emilliea Frost and Granite Hall!" The crowd cheers.

"It's Emmie," I mutter under my breath. Our escort glares.

"Nicknames don't sit well in the Capitol."

"Real names don't sit well with _me_," I shoot back. She grimaces. I smile.

**Granite Hall's POV**

The waiting room feels cold. I watch out the window and wait for the train to come.

As much as I don't want to be in the Games, I want to be away from Cobalt. He stands in front of me. We stare at each other for a while. He sighs, and whispers in my ear.

"I hope you die."

**Emilliea Frost's POV **

The only person who comes to say goodbye is my best friend, Metis. After my parents were taken, she invited me to live with her and her family. She hugs me for a long time and I feel tears run down my face. I can already tell she's choked up. I hear the train whistle and she lets go. We nod at each other.

"I _know_ you can win," she says. I hug her one last time. Actions and thoughts are two different things.


	11. A Reaping in the Livestock District

**A Message From The Panda: Hello! I would just like to use this space to promote my newest story; '23 Flies', which focuses on Johanna Mason's story. Please review, if you choose to read it.**

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><p><em>District Ten<em>

**Alana Burg's POV**

Reaping Day is the only time of year my mother actually takes a breath. And then I'm reminded of how much of a control freak she is.

"Alana! Clean that dress before you leave the house! You can't go out in _that_ filthy thing! It's humiliating! And look at your hair. Can't you run a brush through it?" My mother grabs my arm as I'm heading out the door. She practically rips the pale blue dress off of me and throws it into the sink, which we use to clean dishes and clothes.

"Mom, I have to go! Paisley's waiting and she needs cleaning more than that does," I say, rolling my eyes. Paisley is my best friend. Her family doesn't care about her and she is forced to work all year long. She dropped out of school in order to support her family of eight. Today is the only day when she isn't dirt-caked, and that's only because I give her warm water for a bath and a dress for the ceremony.

"Why do you have to go now? The Reaping isn't for two hours!"

"Paisley takes a while to get ready, okay?" I snatch the dress, which is soaking wet and covered in suds, and wring it out. "Great. Now I can't even wear it."

I throw it on the drying rack with last night's dinner plates and pull on a frilly pink thing that's a size too big. Slamming the door behind me, I run away from my mother's scolds.

**Damon Ryder's POV**

"Just shoot for the stars  
>If it feels right<br>And aim for my heart  
>If you feel like<br>And take me away and make it OK  
>I swear I'll behave."<p>

"Damon! Get your ass out here before I kick it out!"

I sigh and run my hand through my perfectly messed-up hair. "Be right there, Dad!" I call through my bedroom door. I can't get two seconds to myself around here.

Singing calms me down, but if anyone found out, I'd be as dead as the meat I chop at the butcher's. I quickly pull on a light blue t-shirt and my nicest leather jacket.

"Mon-Mon, Daddy's shaking!" My two year old sister Gemma runs through the door, tears welled up in her eyes.

"It's okay, Gem. He just forgot to take his... _medicine._" By medicine, I mean liquor. But I could never be the one to tell Gemma that her father is an alcoholic and that's why she has to share a bed with her older sister Lacey and her big brother Zane sleeps on the floor. That's why we sometimes go without dinner or heat. We don't have enough money to buy all the necessities. He spends it all on whiskey.

My dad promised to sober up for the Reaping, but I would rather deal with him passed out in his own vomit than his withdrawls. I hold Gemma for a few minutes, then walk with her out to the kitchen/living room, where our dad stares absently at his hand.

"Dad, I'm just going to check on Melina. Once she's ready, we can go. Okay?" He looks up for a moment, then back at his hand. "I'll take that as a yes," I say and walk down the short hallway to my best friend, Malina Patron's, room. She lives with us, since she has nowhere to go. Her parents were killed in an uprising and this was the only way to keep her out of the community home.

"Knock knock," I mumble as I open her door. "You ready?"

"Oh, yeah," she replies with a smile. My eyes widen as I take in her outfit; low-cut, skin-tight green dress that brings out her eyes. Her height is increased by about three inches due to tall white heels. Around her neck is a single emerald on a silver chain. Her mother gave it to her on her twelfth birthday.

"Wow," I breathe. "You look... stunning." She smiles, and I swear she shines a little brighter as we walk to the square.

**Alana Burg's POV**

After an hour and a half of brushing, scrubbing, and pulling, Paisley is finally ready.

"Thanks for doing this, Lane. It means a lot to me."

"No problem. You deserve it." She grins; something I rarely see, and we rush to the Reaping.

The escort puts her hand into the glass ball just as I take my place among the 16 year olds.

"And this year's female tribute is..." he pauses to unfold the tiny piece of paper in his delicate fingers. "Alana Burg!"

My jaw drops open, and I hear Paisley gasp. My dad and I make eye-contact. His expression sums up my emotions; devastated. I see my mother's worried face, but conclude that it's probably due to the fact that I'm wearing the most embarrassing dress in the entire District.

And then, despite my situation, I begin to laugh madly. I stop only when every pair of eyes in the square is staring at me. Then I make my way to the stage, hands shaking violently.

The escort pulls the male name and reads, "Damon Ryder!" My eyes widen. Damon Ryder is every girl's dream boy.

A girl in a green dress cries out. Damon, who's standing next to her, looks pained for an instant. But then his face is emotionless again and he makes his way to the stage in the coolest manner possible. My knees go a little weak as I take him in, superstar of the school, standing right next to me. A little ironic, how this is the only way I'd ever get close to him...

**Damon Ryder's POV**

I hug my siblings tight, forcing the tears to stay back, making sure they don't see. I swallow hard and look at Lacey, thinking about how in five years she'll be eligible for the Games. And Zane only has two years of safety left. Of course, if Dad doesn't stop drinking, they might starve.

"Melina. Please take care of them. Make sure they don't die."

"I will," she says. I sway, summoning the courage to tell her how I feel.

"And... make sure you know you- you were what made me get up in the morning. You were what kept me going. Just... make sure you know that." I look at the floor, feeling my cheeks redden.

She throws her arms around my neck and whispers, "I'll never forget you. Here, take this." She takes off her necklace and puts it in my hands. "So you'll never forget me." She leaves, tears rolling down her cheeks. Zane, Lacey, and Gemma surround her, and I wave a final goodbye to them.

Next to come in is my mentor, the butcher; Attilio. He's like a father to me, the person I spend the most time with and learn the most from. He hugs me and slaps my back. "You have been the best apprentice I've ever had, Damon. Good luck."

"Goodbye, Attilio," I whisper as he is led out by a Peacekeeper. I am then brought to the waiting train, and turn back to blow a kiss to a group of girls in the crowd. They squeal and wish me good luck. But what they don't know is that among them was Melina Patron.


	12. A Reaping in the Agriculture District

**A Message From The Panda: So sorry that this took so long to get up! Please enjoy it now!**

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><p><em>District Eleven<em>

**Sorrel Nicholas's POV**

I slip into my father's old suit. Mother told me he got married in this, and it automatically made me think that it's way too fancy for the reaping. Then again, it would make my family look wealthy, which we are not.

The suit is baggy on me, but I wear it anyway. It makes me think of a time when Father wasn't a drunken idiot, and Mother wouldn't just sit back and let it happen. But that was years ago.

June walks past me in her poofy yellow dress and snarls.

"Nice monkey suit. You look so stupid, they'll _purposely_ pick you, just for the entertainment." I roll my eyes. This time, her cutting comment was weak, but now that she's 10, I know they're only going to get worse. Even though June has a passion for driving me insane, I'm happy to avoid my grandmother. I haven't been called "worthless" today, so maybe she's sick. In fact, Grandmother's so old, she could be dead by now. I smile at the thought. It's my first real smile in months.

**Meghan Belis's POV**

I toss my brown hair to the side, trying to find the perfect style for the reaping.

I barely even get nervous anymore. For the girls my age in District 11, it's the one day of the year we get to look nice before we have to put on our work clothes and get back to farming.

My skin-tight pink dress is getting a little short, I notice. Then again, I've had it for the past two reapings, and my family can't afford much more.

It doesn't matter though. I know that my two best friends, Mara and Kira will like it - their dresses won't be as short. I know the district boys will like it, too.

Since we live in the "wealthier" part of 11, we don't have to work on the farms as much. We work Monday through Friday, but only until four. And we have the weekends off. However, we're still poor as dirt. And there's nothing we can do. It's all the Capitol's fault. They devote all of their money to the Career districts; the Capitol's personal lapdogs. All we get are the pennies that have been left behind.

**Sorrel Nicholas's POV**

I actually don't mind the reaping. It's the only day of the year that I don't spend with my disfunctional family. Believe it or not, I think it might be my favorite day of the year. I'm perfectly content without them. However, this is the first year that my name is dropped in the reaping ball, and I'm standing in a sea of other 12-year-olds. One of them asks me my name.

"None of your buisness," I snarl. Another boy interferes.

"Look buddy, we're all nervous here. You don't have to be so rude." I glare at him, and feel my ears get hot.

"Shut up and leave me alone." I say through my clenched teeth. The boy gets my hint. I feel tears welling in my eyes.

My mind is in a daze, but I'm alert now thanks to our escort, Belvia Marone. Her high-pitched voice rings in my ears.

"Let's start with the ladies!" she giggles. As if it's funny. She yells out a name, and I see a pretty girl walk up to the stage.

She'll never win. She looks way too... plucky. Whatever.

Everyone's palms are sweating, hoping not to be reaped. If they are, it would be tough. I mean, they'll probably never get to see their families again... ever.

That's it! Before she can yell out the boy's name, I stand up.

"I volunteer as a tribute!"

**Meghan Belis's POV**

This is a joke. It has to be. But now, it's becoming more and more real.

I'm at the train station. My family, Mara, and Kira are here. They're all crying now. I've never seen Mara and Kira cry before. Their tears cause my lip to quiver.

I give them all hugs. My head throbs, and I'm passive to everyone. I know they're giving me advice, and telling me to do the best that I can. But I don't listen. I can't. I give one last wave to all of them as I hop on the train.

I am in the Hunger Games. I am going to die.


	13. A Reaping in the Coal Mining District

**A message from The Panda: This is the last reaping; the Games are nearly upon us. I will be editing the previous chapter with the rest of the reaping once it's finished, so please check for the edit and hang in there! I'm trying very hard to update quicker.**

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><p><em>District Twelve<em>

**Penelopy Brown's POV**

I close the clasp on my locket and my mind flashes back to six years before, when I looked into the eyes of Juno Miller from District Four, victor of the 170th Hunger Games. She looked at the other grieving family, then right at me, probably calling to mind my hysteria when my brother Henry was reaped.

I was only seven then, and loved him with my body and soul. He was my protector when our parents stirred up trouble in town with the Peacekeepers. He made sure I had dinner almost every night, and he slept on the floor so I could have a bed. He held me tight on that couch in the Justice Building until the Peacekeeper ripped me from his grasp.

I remember watching the screen with an intenseness I had never felt before as Henry ran through the mob of tributes after the gong, then screaming for him as the boy from Ten took him out with one stab of his sword.

Juno ended up killing that boy, but that didn't make me feel much better as she stared at my tiny face, wearing her crown of jewels and looking magnificent in a midnight blue gown.

I open the locket and allow a tear to make its way down my freckled cheek as I look at Henry's smiling face.

**Reno Bolven's POV**

I watch coldly as my father guides my stumbling mother out the door. She loses her balance and laughs madly at a joke only she can hear. I roll my eyes.

"Haha, hey, Lamo. Ready to get reaped?" my eldest brother Jonas says, as he always does on reaping day. I tense, preparing for the annual punch on the arm that is sure to leave a bruise this time.

"Quit it, Jonas. You were reaped. You're lucky that boy volunteered for you or else you would be dead," I snap at him, and his expression darkens. It was a bold move on my part, as I'm usually afraid of him. But this is the one thing I can tease him about without getting a broken nose.

Jonas is 27, and is one half of a pair of twins. My sister, Elle, is the other twin. I also have two other brothers, aged 24 and 20, and an older sister, who is 18. As the youngest of six children, I get beat up a lot. My cautious nature was born from the pranks played on me when I was younger.

My family walks together to the square, though we never speak. My mom can hardly move her feet due to the bottle of rum she drank this morning. Last year she tried to quit, but ended up cutting herself and tried to kill a Peacekeeper. So my dad let her buy spirits again. She's hardly conscious anymore.

**Penelopy Brown's POV**

"Welcome, welcome, to the 176th annual Hunger Games District Twelve Reaping!" Our escort, Lynna Bowe says cheerfully. Her face has been tampered with so much that she can hardly move her muscles naturally. Her cheeks appear rubber.

Lynna's pointed hat almost falls off as she reaches into the boys' ball. Lynna has always done things differently. Her first year escorting District Twelve, she announced proudly, "I believe that all people are equal, and therefore boys are equal to girls. We should get no special treatment. And with that, I draw the boy's name first!"

Her long, claw-like nails make it nearly impossible to grab a tiny slip of paper. But she snatches one up and walks back to the podium.

"Reno Bolden," she says clearly. A boy from the 16 year old section makes his way to the stage and mumbles something bitterly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that," Lynna says with a smile. "Could you say that into the microphone?"

He glares at her, then says, "Bolven. It's Reno _Bolven. _Not Bolden." Lynna Bowe looks startled, but collects herself and walks to the girls' ball. This time, she grabs the name quickly and efficiently. I close my eyes and am transported to that moment when she called Henry's name. And suddenly I'm reliving the horror.

**Reno Bolven's POV**

"Penelopy Brown!" she pipes into the microphone, and the sound causes a shrill squeak to come from the device. I flinch and watch a small 13 year old come forward, distress in her eyes. She resembles Maddie, my girlfriend. Well, I guess she's my ex-girlfriend, now.

Her lip trembles, and she shakes my hand timidly. I look at my family, sitting together behind the eligible children. My father frowns at me and my siblings reflect a form of misery. It's strange to me that they look upset, but I have never known them to show affection toward me.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the 176th District Twelve tributes: Penelopy Brown and Reno Bolden!" Great. She did it again.

Goodbyes are tense, but I allow myself to hug each of the family members who come to see me. I think of what goodbyes could have been like two years ago, when Maddie was still alive. I would hold her close and tell her I love her, and she would cry and say that this was the Capitol's way of punishing her for her rebellious father.

But no. They found another form of punishment. They left her to burn with her mother and baby brother. I can still hear her screams ringing throughout the District.

This is why I must defy them. This is why I must play these Games my own way. I plan to die with a dignity unmatched by any other tribute in history. Perhaps I will do a little damage in the meantime.


	14. Welcome to the Capitol

A** message from The Panda: For those of you who didn't read the 175th Hunger Games; the interviewer of the tributes' name is Sisco Perry. He is a lovable Capitol man who is addicted to peppermints. Last Games, he was interviewed on his opinions in a segment called Sisco's Thoughts. This year, he might be getting his own TV Show to voice his opinions! But he needs your vote on my poll! You can find it on my profile. Also, here is the sponsor system: the better review you leave once the Games begin, the more points you get. Everyone starts with 20 points. Thank you and Happy Hunger Games!**

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><p><em>Welcome to the Capitol<em>

**Calico Swarm, Capitol Reporter**

The Tribute Trains arrive one by one. First to come are the closer Districts; Two, Nine, Ten, and Three. I snap photos of the most appealing tributes, the escorts, and close-ups of each mentor. One flips me off. It's alright; I'm used to it.

I can see the amazement on each tribute's face when they pull into the station. One - the female from Five - throws up as she's whisked away to be made up for the Opening Ceremonies.

Some tall guy pushes his way in front of me just as District Eleven arrives. I push past him roughly, but someone shoves me back. I hold my camera above my head and snap pictures blindly.

When I look through them, I can see that almost all of them feature the back of someone's head.

**Blanco Gates, Head Gamemaker**

As I sit on my patio, I overlook each tribute as they are brought into the Training Center. Most of them look like they will provide a sufficient show, but others are puny and insignificant. I memorize each of their pathetic faces, beginning to plan their exciting deaths in my mind.

Soon it is time for me to prepare for the Ceremonies. I get a special seat above the crowd, with a magnification screen so I can see each tribute in detail.

In my Head Gamemaker robe, I sit next to the others at the booth specified for us. The anthem plays, and District One rolls out.

Their clothes are covered in shards of mirror, reflecting every light, every smile cast in their direction. I sheild my eyes from the brightness their costumes bring. District Two is dressed in drab quarrying outfits. It almost makes me yawn. But the tributes are fierce and attractive. They will make excellent players.

Three seems to be two different machines, with buttons, switches, and wires covering their gray clothes. District Four, however, is in shimmering blue-green wraps with seaweed decorating their hair. I catch glimpses of fish swimming in the cloth. District Five is rather unremarkable, with jumpsuits and work boots.

District Six is a bit interesting; the girl's dress is shaped like a beaker and actually releases colored bubbles. The boy is dressed like a mad scientist, with his hair appearing electrified and his lab coat scortched. District Seven is dressed like trees. Again.

District Eight has outfits made from different pieces of cloth. They are all different materials, colors, and patterns. It actually doesn't look too bad. The tributes from Nine are made up to look like they've been working all day, and Ten is wearing cow clothes. I wonder when we'll get some creative stylists for the Games.

The tributes from Eleven are decorated with different foods to represent agriculture, and the ones from Twelve are dressed up in black tank tops and long black pants. Their hair is powdered with shimmering black glitter.

I sit back as President Malum speaks about determination, endurance, and the great honor it is to be a part of this year's Games. As the tributes roll back into the remake center, I join the crowd in their chant.

"Run, fight, win! Run, fight, win!" It's this year's slogan. I came up with it myself. Not 100% original, but it works.

**Lucetta Winter**

I strip down and change into a pair of silk pajamas. The rest of the District Two group is at dinner, but I order a sandwhich and eat it in my bed. I just want to be alone right now. I need time to strategize.

The bed in my room is layered with two sheets, three blankets, and a comforter. I peel each one back and settle in.

There's some laughter from the Dining Room, and a crash. I hear the thud of running feet as they pass my door. Cracking my door open, I see an Avox rushing to clean herself off; she's covered in a brown liquid. I roll my eyes and close the door.

**Meghan Belis**

Dinner is extravagent. Five courses fill me up; a pink, creamy soup, fruit salad, steak and baked potatoes, a heavy green soup, and the most delicate lemon cake in the Capitol. There's also wine and hot chocolate. I finish it all, even a glass of wine. I'm hardly back into my room before I lose all of it right on the carpet.

An Avox boy comes in when I call for help. His nose flares when he sees the mess, but he cleans it up. I don't bother to change before falling into bed.

**Jay Red**

I sit with Maril as we watch the reapings. I'm not worried about most of these tributes, but some do seem like possible threats. But I don't worry about it too much. I'll be top dog around here by this time tomorrow, and it will be all uphill from there.

After District Twelve, I head back to my room. Maril stays to talk with her mentor.

Back in my room, I try to sleep. But I'm too excited. This is a dream come true, unfolding right under my nose! I can't hide the smile creeping onto my face.


	15. Meet the Tributes!

**A message from The Panda: Okay, long chapter, I know. This chapter gives you guys a short background on each character. Some people mentioned how difficult it is to remember each tribute, so I used Amata le Fay's tactics from her story, Survival, to make it a little easier. The credit goes to her! Also, I don't own The Hunger Games, or the tributes in this story. And please vote on my poll! Every opinion counts!**

**Huggles,**

**The Panda**

* * *

><p><em>Meet the Tributes!<em>

**Rip Waters**

The morning after the Opening Ceremonies, I wake up early. The clock on my bedside table reads 6:50. I groan and curl up under my comforter. Minutes pass, and I can't seem to get back to sleep.

I open my eyes and notice something I hadn't seen before. A pamphlet. I pick it up and look at the cover. There's a picture of the Capitol and the President's face. I can't help but notice the giant zit on her forehead that someone tried to cover up with makeup. Pitiful.

The title reads, _Meet the Tributes! by Blanco Gates, Head Gamemaker. _I open it and scan the text for my name. And voila, there's my picture next to a short paragraph.

_Rip Waters, a sixteen year old, works in District Four's main fish market. He lives happilly on his own. He's great with tridents and swords, so watch out! Life for Mr. Waters is very exciting! Collin Slate, his boss, says, "Rip is quite a strange kid. Doesn't talk much, and doesn't seem to have any friends or family. I worry for him." Well, worry no more, Mr. Slate, because Rip is in good hands here in the Capitol, and I'm sure he will be our victor!_

Well, that's a load of crap. This guy can make anyone sound enjoyable to be around. And he's the one controlling my fate! I lay down and bury myself in a sea of blankets.

**Emilliea Froste**

I flip through the pamphlet while I eat breakfast. The others at the table chat away, but I examine each tribute thoroughly, getting to know my competition. The tributes are listed in District order, with the female listed before the male.

_Maril Rane, at age fourteen, is a cute, no nonesense girl from the heart of District One. If you like a boss, she's your girl. The first weapons she goes for are long-range. A sniper! Ms. Rane lives with her younger brother and parents. Her mother, the person she's closest to, spoke to us shortly after the reaping. "I am so proud of her and I am confident that she'll be fabulous!" Ah, and fabulous she will be, Mrs. Rane! I'm sure she will be our victor!_

_Jay Red, the baddest fifteen year old in District One, lives with his parents, Mark and Mary. His strength gives him a certain power over weaklings. He's good with most weapons, so be cautious whenever he has something sharp! His father gave us the following quote: "Jay's a normal kid. I've trained him to be fearless, merciless. He finally volunteered, and I expect him to come home. Make me proud, son." And proud you will be, sir, because I'm sure he will be our victor!_

Wait, what? That's what he said about Maril! What a kiss-ass. And he's the one with authority!

_Lucetta Winter, seventeen years of age, is a quiet girl who lives with her grandmother, brother, sister, and parents. Unfortunately, Lucetta's Grandma Rose, a victor herself, is terribly ill. She was not able to make it to the reaping, but was very pleased to hear that Lucetta was reaped. "My Luce won't let me down, I hope. You can never know with that girl. Not like her siblings. Doesn't focus on herself. She seems to be more concerned about that friend of hers... Gabriel. Oh, well. You take what you can get, right?" Well, if Lucetta is what you got, you got lucky! I'm sure she will be our victor!_

**Hime Saisori**

_Sanjay Lesa, at age eighteen, is a quiet boy from District Two. He lives with his parents and younger sister. Says his mother, "We were hesitant to let Sanjay train, at first. We were worried that he'd injure himself or get into trouble, but I'm not so worried now. He's very strong and knows how to take charge." Yes he does, and that skill will come in handy in the arena! I'm sure he'll be our victor!_

_Cordin Vasquez is a reckless fourteen year old from District Three. She lives with her olde sister Elaine and her parents, who agreed to speak to us shortly. "Our daughter isn't the nicest girl in the world, but being nice doesn't get you far in the-" her father said, but was interrupted by her hysterical mother. "She didn't mean it! So what if she's a little [brat]? So what if she kicked that Peacekeeper in the shin? She's a sweet kid... you know, once you get to know her! You did this on PURPOSE! You reaped her to get rid of her! I know you did! I KNOW YOU DID!" Now, now, Mrs. Vasquez. Nobody did anything on purpose, and I'm sure Cordin will be our victor!_

_Ash Hunt, who is also fourteen and from District Three, is one of the most serious kids you'll ever meet, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have a fun side! I know it will come out soon; we just have to give it time. He lives with his dad Vern, victor of the 157th Games, in the Victor's Village. His mother died five years ago and he lost his older sister Sequoia in the 174th Games when she was sixteen. My greatest apologies to you and your father, Ash! Don't lose hope; I'm sure you'll be our victor!_

I roll my eyes. This man is obviously trying to be upbeat, but it's a little sad. After all, he _is _arranging our deaths at this very moment.

"Hime? Hime!"

"Hm?" I mumble and briefly glance up to see my mentor motioning for me to get up.

"Come on, you're going to be late for the first day of training!" She grabs my arm and drags me to the elevator. I look back at my untouched breakfast with longing.

**Anna Sellta**

I listen to the instructor as much as I can while scanning my tribute description in the pamphlet I snuck down here. I know I should be listening, but really, who cares?

_Anna Sellta, a sixteen year old enjoying life in District Six, is the definition of Queen Bee. She knows how to take over when necessary, and doesn't take anyone's crap. Anna lives with her mother in their home. Unfortunately, Anna's father is a morphling addict and is currently in recovery, but he wishes the best of luck to his daughter. Astra, the closest of Anna's many friends, spoke these last words to her best friend, "Anna, I know you can do it. I believe in you. You go, girl!" And go she will, Astra. I'm sure Anna will be our victor!_

Well, duh. Of course I am. But it's kind of nice to have those words of encouragement from Astra. I smile faintly and decide to check out some other tributes... just to see which ones pose the biggest threats.

_Brooke Waters, sixteen, is the super-sly of District Four. Her creative personality makes strategizing for the Games no problem; she will be very entertaining. She lives with her parents and sisters Lily and Riley. Nineteen year old Lily said to us, "Brooke's a schemer. I have no doubt that she'll do very well in that arena, no matter what they throw at her. She can handle it." I bet she can handle it, Lily. I'm sure, with her skills, she'll be our victor!_

_Rosebud Snider, though only thirteen, has endured much. She lives with both her parents in District Five, but her childhood is a tear-jerker. She lost her twin sister Violet in a fire when they were seven. Her older brother, Spike, died when he was only fifteen in the Games a few years ago. Rosebud is no stranger to death, and she's a brave girl to soldier on through life, despite all it's given her; rotten lemons. I predict that she will do well in these Games. Her mother said this a little after the reaping: "Please, I don't want to talk. I'm going to lose my third and last child. Please, just leave my husband and me alone." You may not be alone for long, Mrs. Snider, because I'm sure Rosebud has what it takes to become our victor!_

_Tyler Grimes, age fifteen, can be fun _and _serious. Imagine that! He lives with his parents in District Five and his best friend's name is Kyle, who gave us the following quote: "Ty, if you're listening or reading this somewhere, pay attention. You gotta win, man. You can do it if you put your mind to it. You have to do anything, _anything _to win. I mean it. Your folks love you, even if you don't see it. Come home, Tyler." Come home he will, since I'm sure he'll be our victor!_

**Tyler Grimes**

We've been released to go to training, but I excuse myself to go to the bathroom. Mostly because I need to pee, but I also wanna get an idea of who my competition is as well. I lock myself in a stall (you know, after I take a wiz), and read.

_Grover Buse is one tough cookie for only being fourteen! He lives in District Six with his parents who we have reason to believe are morphling addicts. According to Grover's twin sister, their parents began neglecting them when they turned twelve after losing their third child in the Games. It seems Grover's family never had much luck, huh? This would be their fourth child in the Games. Is that some kind of record? His sister_ _sends this message to her brother: "Grove, I need you. I can't take care of myself. I can't stay with mom and dad. If you die, I'll eventually die. Please. I love you. I need you. Win for me." Winning should be easy for Grover! I'm sure he'll be our victor!_

Wow. Poor Kid. I sort of feel bad for him. But after reading Kyle's plea, I know I have to do anything to get back to District Five. And if that means Grover Buse's death, so be it.

_Hime Saisori, age thirteen, is a mischevious little girlie from District Seven. With an ancient Japanese name like Hime's, you just know she's going to be unique! She's an eccellent actress, and always has been. That will come to her advantage when the Games come around. She lives with her mother and Ari, her little sister. Her father died in the Games when he was eighteen. At her reaping, Hime volunteered for her friend, Josie. What a sweet little girl! Hime's other friend, Jason, said, "Hime is one of the smartest people I know. I'm betting on her." We should all place our bets soon, and Hime's a good choice! I'm sure she'll be our victor!_

_Jacob Frond, at the fun age of seventeen, is one of District Seven's friendliest kids. He lives with his parents, John and Louise. He likes spending time with his friends Sam and Fred. Fred told us after the reaping, "Yeah, Jacob's cool. He's funny and nice. I hope he gets out of there alive." And get out he wil, Fred. I'm sure he'll be our victor! _

**Maril Rane**

I stick with the Careers. We move from station to station, wowing the instructors with our fearless skills. I don't bother to show them my true gifts; I'll wait until I'm in the arena. Not even the Gamemakers will know how deadly I am.

"Get lost," Jay says to the small girl from District Five when we reach the fire-building station. She scrambles away, mumbling something about how something could something a something up his something. I smile in agreement. Jay's a jerk, and a threat to my power. He'll be one of the first to go. I'll make sure of that.

When it's lunch time, I look around. Most tributes sit alone, spaced two or three seats apart from each other. Some have begun to form alliances. They sit in pairs of two and talk timidly. We, however, laugh and talk and enjoy our meal as if we were best friends. I almost feel, for a moment, that we're not going to kill each other in a few days. But then I remember the truth grin at Jay.

I get up to put my tray away and notice a table with some pamphlets spread out on it. I open one and begin to read.

_Kyra Reed, fifteen, shines bright in District Eight. She's very clever and smart. She lives with her parents and her twin brother, Tate. They are all very close. We were not able to get a comment from any of them, nor Kyra's friends, Luna or Eli. But I wish them to worry not, because I'm sure Kyra will be our victor!_

Yeah, right. Are Gamemakers aloud to show favoritism toward one tribute?

_Comet Jet, a fifteen year old from District Eight, is not your average tribute. He was crippled in a factory accident and must use a crutch to walk. He lives with his parents, who we could not find for commentation. He apparently has no siblings, either, or any other family. Anyway, I'm sure he'll be our victor!_

Despite the exclamation point, I can tell he didn't write that piece with much enthusiasm. Nobody expects that cripple to survive the first hour.

**Jacob Frond**

I look over some of the tributes as I eat my lunch.

_Emilliea Froste, a clever fifteen year old, lives with her friend Metis, who she moved in with after her parents were arrested by Peacekeepers for rebellious actions. Her home in District Nine is humble and small, but she's just glad to have a home. Metis said, "Emmie is a great friend and I'm glad that I got to live with her. I'm going to miss you, Emmie." Oh, don't be such a downer, Metis! I'm sure she'll be our victor!_

_Granite Hall is a remarkable sixteen year old from District Nine. He has the amazing ability to remember everything! Wow! He lives with his father, who hasn't spoken since Granite's mother was murdered when he was eleven. His uncle Cobalt, Granite's mother's brother, gave us the following quote: "Good luck in that arena, kid. Hehe. Don't go and get yourself in too much trouble, now! Ah, well, you can't expect the little brat to listen to you! Okay, okay. Well, have a good day, now." A good day it is, Cobalt, for I am sure Granite will be our victor!_

_Alana Burg, a spunky sixteen year old from District Ten, is spontaneous. Her bubbly personality makes her fun to be around. She makes a good friend! She lives with her parents and is very close to her father. He told us, "My daughter's wonderful. I just... I know she'll do... I'm sorry, just give me a minute... I just know she'll do great." I know she'll do great, too! I'm sure she'll be our victor!_

_Damon Ryder, sixteen, is the badass of District Ten. He lives with his father, an alcoholic, and his three younger siblings; Zane, age ten, Lacey, age seven, and Gemma, age two. He is the butcher's apprentice and is very close to the butcher, Attilio, who told us, "All I'm going to say is that Damon, you don't have to worry. Your siblings will not go hungry in your absence. Good luck, son. I know you can do this." I know he can do it, too! I'm sure he'll be our victor!_

**Kyra Reed**

After a filling lunch, we all get back to training. I finally get to the archery station, where I get used to the Capitol bows. I miss the targets at first, but get fairly close to the center after a few more tries. I don't focus on the bullseye; I listen to a couple tributes, Hime and Emilliea, who I assume are allies, reading the tribute descriptions out loud in the station next to mine.

_Meghan Belis, fifteen, lives with her mother, brother, and sister in District Eleven. This jokester doesn't take much seriously, and that's just how everyone likes her. Her friends, Mara and Kira, love her very much. Said Mara, "I just... I can't belive she's... gone. Just like that. How could this happen?" Well, it's a game of odds, Mara. But smile a little! I'm sure she'll be our victor!_

_Sorrel Nicholas is a bit of a sullen boy, and he's only twelve! He lives with his parents, younger sister June, and grandmother in District Eleven. His family seems very happy, according to a neighbor, but when we approached them after the reaping, the father was drunk and stumbling, his mother rolling her eyes at the complaining little brat who we assumed was June, and his grandmother hitting_ _her over the head and mumbling thungs like 'stupid child' and 'I didn't sign up for this.' We didn't ask for a quote. Nevermind that, though! I'm sure Sorrel will be our victor!_

_Penelopy Brown, a thirteen year old from District Twelve, is an outgoing spark of happiness in her world of darkness. She lives with her parents. Her brother died in the Games a few years ago. She has many friend, but none that she is very close to. Her mother told us, "All I want is for my baby to come home. She's the light of my world!" She'll light up our world as well, Mrs. Brown! I'm sure she'll be our victor!_

_Reno Bolven, a sixteen year old, is a cautious boy from District Twelve. He lives with his parents, two older sisters, and three older brothers. Wow, the youngest of six! Big, chaotic family! His sister, who is a year older than him, said, "I feel guilty for playing all those pranks on him when we were kids. At least it taught him to stay quick on his feet. He's always too careful. But that will help him in the Games." Yes it will, and I'm sure he'll be our victor!_

I release the last arrow in my sheath and get a perfect bullseye. With a "Congratulations!" from the instructor and some stares form the other tributes, I make my way to the edible plants station, where I stay until it's time to go to dinner.


	16. A Moment Alone

**A message from The Panda: Hello! Only one person has voted on my poll. I need some more votes, guys. Your opinion counts. I CAN NOT STRESS IT ENOUGH. Vote. Please.**

**Huggles,**

**The Panda**

* * *

><p><em>A Moment Alone<em>

**Brooke Waters**

The three days of training go by too fast. All of a sudden, I'm in the dining hall. They call Jay in to begin his private session, and I notice the other tributes begin to tremble.

I'm not sure what I'll show the Gamemakers yet. I guess I'll just wing it. I'm good enough, I know that. The other Careers talk about what their strategies will be, but I eat quietly. I've never been much of a talker.

The chicken on my plate stares back at me. I poke it with my fork one, two, three times before giving up on my appetite. Why am I so nervous? Haven't I been trained my entire life for this?

**Blanco Gates**

Jay Red walks in, cocky as ever. I've seen his type. Good for the Games, but not for us. He'll be brutal, ruthless, and fearless. Pick off most of the tributes. The audience will love it. But he's arrogant. He thinks of himself as larger than life; better than us. We can't have an ego like that get too big. We have to remind him who has the power here.

Jay throws some heavy rocks around and then heads to the sword station. He handles the largest one with ease, severing the heads off of several dummies. Then he shows us his skill in hand-to-hand combat. Very impressive.

"Thank you," I say and he leaves, head high. I write my score on the notepad in front of me. My fellow Gamemakers do the same. Then we call in Maril.

"Hello," she says confidently. Scanning the room, she stands eagerly on her toes. Once she has decided on a station, she gets right to work.

She starts with the bow and arrows. Taking refuge behind the rope-tying station, she hits the hearts of dummies from across the room. After she's emptied her quiver, her feet carry her to the knife-throwing area. The bull's-eyes are an easy target. She seems to have no limits, until she tentatively makes her way to the edible-plants station.

"Oh... oops... wait, crap!" she says over and over again as a buzzer signifies a wrong answer. I count. She has "died" from a poisonous plant seven times.

"You may go now, Ms. Rane," I say and mark my thoughts about her performance.

The fifteen-twenty minute sessions sweep by, as they always do.

Sanjay does well with weapons, but can't build a fire or tie a knot to save his life - literally. Lucetta fails in an attempt to throw a spear, but makes up for it with astonishing knife skills. Yet anything else she tries that has to do with survival seems to lead to a dead end. Ash didn't impress with anything, really. He can make a nice fish hook, but other than that, he's a flop. Cordin is too sullen. And judging from her training, she has a right to be. The only thing she seems to do well in is the hand-to-hand combat, and she ends up giving the trainer a black eye.

Rip is quite a mean one, but he's astonishing with the trident. Still, attitude plays a large role in you scores. Brooke is nervous, definitely. But she's intelligent and sweeps the edible-plants test without blinking an eye. Tyler makes himself nearly disappear at the camouflage station. He'll certainly get points for that. But he's incapable of handling larger weapons. Rosebud can make a fire with ease and is good at tying knots with her tiny fingers, but has terrible aim. Grover spends his entire session trying to make a fire without succeeding. Anna doesn't make much of an impression. I can tell she wants to do everything perfectly, and she expected to, but doesn't compare to some of the other tributes we've seen.

Jacob greets us and I like his friendly attitude. He doesn't seem above us, though; he's nice in a timid way. I smile as he makes his way around the center, doing okay in some areas and... well... not impressive in others. Hime smiles sweetly and tries an assortment of different plants. She eats the safe ones, of course, but then takes a false bite of what appears to be a mint leaf. She chokes, spasms, and I worry that we may not have a twenty-fourth tribute for our Games. I rise, tentatively, as she lies motionless on the ground. Those around me mumble, ask questions, look at me. I'm about to call for help when Hime stands, holds out her tongue (which has the un-chewed leaf resting on it), and bows. I can't help but clap.

Comet limps around the room for a while, pathetically throwing spears two feet in front of him, picking it up, and trying again with the safe results. Kyra spends a minute or two at each station, showing us what she can do. It's mostly average skills, and some are very poor. She doesn't make much of an impression. Granite makes a fire with ease, can identify edible and poisonous plants with his eyes closed, and make a complicated snare in a matter of seconds. But he couldn't memorize weapons, so that brings his score down. Emillea is poor with weapons but excellent with making her own shelter. I make note of that.

Damon shows promise with every knife he picks up. He can't seem to get the hang of larger weapons, though. Alana is spunky. I like her spirit, but her ability to handle weapons is non-existant. Sorrel just wants to get out of there. He angrily throws things until he's excused. Meghan doesn't miss a target with her knives, and climbs around the equipment with ease. But her skills in other areas are slim. Reno doesn't try very hard; he steers clear of weapons and focuses on the survival skills, such as fire-building and camouflage. And finally, we call in Penelopy. She seems to have a little training; she can use weapons well enough. But she's too afraid of us. You can tell by the way she averts her eyes and scurries out when we dismiss her.

Once she's gone, we discuss the scores. Of course, there's arguing, but I get to come up with the final scores in the end, so it really doesn't matter what they say.

**Alana Burg**

We're all gathered in the sitting room. I sit eagerly, awaiting my score. I have a feeling that it will be good. I just know it.

Jay recieves an eight. I though he'd at least get a ten. Maril gets an eight as well. Hm.

Sanjay scores a nine; Jay will be furious. Hehe. Lucetta does very well. She gets a ten.

Ash gets the so-so score of five. Cordin only scores a four.

Rip gets a nine, and Brooke gets an eight. I wonder if they're related...

Tyler gets a six. That's pretty good. Rosebud recieves a six too.

**Monroe Michaels, District Seven Better**

I don't care for many of these tributes. My money's on Jay, the strong one.

Grover- Three

Anna- Six

Jacob- Seven

Hime- Nine

Comet- Four

Kyra- Five

Granite- Eight

Emillea- Six

Damon- Eight

Alana- Seven

Sorrel- Three

Meghan- Seven

Reno- Five

Penelopy- Six


	17. Tuned In

**A message from The Panda: Long long long long long chapter. Please read it, though! There will be one more chapter after this before we actually start the Games, but we're getting there! When the Games begin, I'll announce twists in the sponsor system, like it says in chapter one. The twists will make more sense once the arena is revealed, so don't worry about that. There has been a change in the arena outfit, though. So... here it is. **A sky-blue t-shirt made of breathable material, brown pants, knee-high black hiking boots, and a grey sweatshirt with a hood and drawstrings. Also, a new poll is up on my profile. Vote for who you think will make it to the final eight! You will receive 5 points for every correct guess, and 50 points if you guess all eight correct. Whether or not you are correct won't be revealed until we actually reach that point in the Games.****

**Huggles,**

**The Panda**

* * *

><p><em>Tuned in<em>

**Sisco Perry, Hunger Games Interviewer**

I take a deep breath and pop the peppermint into my mouth. It cools my toungue, prickling my senses. Mmm...

A woman with a headset reminds me that we're live in thirty seconds. I thank her and take my position behind the door that leads to the stage.

_Twenty, nineteen, eighteen, seventeen... _Someone appears to make last minute adjustments to my makeup.

_Twelve, eleven, ten, nine... _My peppermint, half dissolved, slides to the back of my throat. I choke and sputter, struggling to breath. An Avox comes and helps me. I spit it up into his hand.

_Three, two, one... _The crowd explodes as I walk onto the stage, smiling and waving. I catch a glimpse of myself on a screen and am pleased to see that I show no signs of my recent choking.

"Heeeeelllllooooo Panem!" I say into the microphone in my hand. "Are you ready to meet this year's tributes?" The response is deafening. I think one woman throws up.

After the excitement of last year's Quarter Quell and Doon Wainright's magnificant victory, the Capitol is dying to see what the Gamemakers have in store. They expect the same gore and suspense, but it's hard to top that. Well, I'm glad it's not _my _job.

"I think the tributes are ready to meet you, too! So, without further adue, please welcome to the stage... Jaaaaay Reeeeeed!" I stretch the vowels for emphasis. It's a technique I picked up from the first anouncer, Terrance Morrue.

Jay stands and smiles, making his way to the seat. He shakes my hand and I begin the interview.

"So, Jay. How are you tonight?"

"A little tired, to be honest."

"Well, how could you sleep with the Games just around the corner?" With this, the audience cheers. Jay waits for them to quiet down before he nods.

"Yes. It's all very exciting. I've waited a long time for this."

"Oh, you looked forward to these Games?"

"Yes, my parents always encouraged me to volunteer."

"Well, they made a good decision. I hear you're very talented, and it showed in your training score. Tell us, how did you feel when you saw that eight flashing below your name?"

"Well, I was disappointed. I thought I'd do much better."

"Really? What did you do?" I lean forward in my seat and sense the audience to the same.

"Can't tell you. But you'll find out. Tomorrow."

"Yes, none of us can wait! Well, good luck to you, Jay. We wish you well. Now, please welcome Maaaaaaril Raaaaaane!"

She stands and makes her way to me wearing a black gown. Her hair is tied up in a bun and her expression is one of stone.

"Hello Maril. You look very lovely tonight."

"I know," she replies simply.

"So, how have you liked the Capitol? Anything exciting happen?"

"It's too bright." Uh, oh. I can tell this girl's going to be hard to work with. Man, I wish I had a peppermint right now.

"Well, thanks for the tip. So, tell us about tomorrow. What's your plan, once you enter the arena?"

"Isn't it obvious? Track and kill. Rule and conquer. It's the oldest strategy there is, but it's effective."

"Yes, it is. So, you're good with long-range weapons, I understand. Which is your favorite?"

"Ideally, a dart-gun. Poisonous. But I guess bow and arrows would be my next choice."

"Mm. Good choices," I agree with a nod. "So, Maril, what do you think of your fellow tributes?"

After a moment of consideration, she concludes, "Weaklings. Pathetic. I could easily kill each and every one of them. And I will."

"You're very confident, aren't you. Well, your time is up. So let's meet the quiet Saaaaaaanjay Leeeeeeesa!"

"Nice to meet you, Sanjay. That's quite an interesting name. Care to tell us about it?"

His face is expressionless. "No."

"Well, how about that nine in training? Hm? How'd you manage that."

"Not important."

"Not important? Not important! It could very well mean the difference between life and death for you! C'mon, you can't give us a hint?"

"No." Argh. Where's a good peppermint when you need one.

There's no getting around it. Sanjay is just plain cold-hearted. As I move on through the tributes, their difference really stand out.

Lucetta is quiet and mysterious. She doesn't tell us about her home life but does express her excitement about her score of ten. Ash is dark, commenting freely on his mother and sister's deaths. I remember his sister, Sequoia. She was sweet adn nice, not to mention beautiful. I wonder if Ash used to be like that. I wonder if her death turned his cold. Cordin is very angry and mean. She repeatedly insults me and the Capitol, calling the Games stupid and pointless, because even if the districts were to rebel again there would just be even more death and pain. I doubt she'll live more than an hour in the arena.

Rip Waters is my least favorite. When I call him to the stage, he immediately jumps to criticism.

"You could just say our names," he says with scorn. "We're not any more impressive when you take ten times as long to speak." I bite my cheek and continue, asking him about his thoughts on the other tributes.

"Please. None of them will last very long. They're all too quiet, confident, insulting, ugly, untalented or just plain stupid to survive in that arena. These Games'll be over within a week." The rest of his interview doesn't register because I'm trying so hard not to hit him and his pessimist attitude off this stage. Plus I want a peppermint more than ever.

Brooke is very sly. She hints at plans and strategies, but never gives us the entire scoop. From what I know, she plans on winning no matter what, and I wouldn't trust her if I was a tribute. I'd either run or kill her out of defense. Tyler is friendly. He easily makes the audience laugh, though I'm not sure what he says. I'm too busy focusing on how badly I want something to suck on, and how the air is beginning to smell minty. But when I ask him if he's nervous about the Games, he replies, "Eh. Not really. I think I'll do pretty well."

Rosebud tells us about the pain she endured in her childhood. I sense she's playing the sympathy card, and I guess it worked. Many eyes in the audience are wet, some weeping. I take out my handkerchief and wipe away fake tears for good measure. Oh, great. Now my handkerchief smells like mint. Miiiiiinnnnntttt...

"Are- are you alright?" Grover asks me, and I realize that I've been drooling.

"Hm? Oh, yes, I'm fine. Just a little hungry for our delicious Capitol food. How do you like it, Grover?"

"It's... too rich," he says, confused. "I _just _said that." Oops. I wasn't listening.

The next time I snap back into reality, Anna Sellta is in the middle of talking about none other than herself. She babbles on and on about her morphling addict father and poor her and how her friends never cared about her or else they would have volunteered. Yikes. I wouldn't have taken her place either.

Jacob is hilarious. He makes faces, mimicking strange Capitol looks he's seen and does his best Capitol accent. It's hilarious. He sounds _nothing _ like us! His voice is far too high-pitched, his vowels too sharp. Psh, please. I do _not _ sound like that... right?

Hime is sweet, talking about her family and little sister Ari. I congratulate her on her nine in training, which she smiles mischeviously at. Then, when I ask how she got it. She says that it's all thanks to her years of practice. But practicing... what? That, she does not reveal. She does, however, comment on how many of these tributes are cute in her eyes, and she's sweet on one. Which one, we are left to decide on our own. Though my money's on Damon. Yeah, I saw her looking at him like _that._

Comet talks about his crippling, which probably scores him sympathy, but sponsors? Not likely. No one wants to support a lame tribute. Especially one who can't even run. He won't win, and they know it. Kyra has a determined air around her that glistens with her shimmering red dress. She's confident and wants to get home to her friends and Eli, who she reveals she is in love with and wants to go home to. The crowd loves it; romance is always a good motivation to send a tribute home.

Granite talks in response to my questions, but neither are more important than my current peppermint dilemma. Even Granite's _breath _smells like the sweet candy now. And that certainly is my imagination. Emilliea, or Emmie, as she asked me to call her, appears strong. But her six in training suggests otherwise. Damon is tough and seems fearless. A definite contender in these Games. Alana is spunky and light; forgettable. Sorrel is sullen, but I don't pay attention much. All I know is that these interviews are almost over. Hooray!

Meghan is mature and cool, serious and confident. I like her style. Reno is distant, and it seems that my questions and the Games mean next to nothing to him. But I know this strategy. Underneath that whispy cover lies a nervous tribute itching to get off that stage. I don't blame him. I want to go too. To curl up in my bed, sipping peppermint tea and watching a rerun of the 158th Games, which is scheduled to air right after the interviews. Finally, Penelopy comes up. She is small, young and sweet. Only 13. She seems weary, but plays to the audience's soft side. Many "awws" and "oh, she's so cute" come from the audience during her interview.

And finally, it's over. I stand, thank Panem for tuning in tonight, and walk off stage. A woman takes my microphone. Another gives me a peppermint. I unwrap it and sigh with relief.

"I've missed you," I coo softly to the candy.

Oh, boy. I need help.


	18. Jelly Beans

**A message from The Panda: Okay, last one until The Hunger Games! Hoorah! Write 'hoorah' on the top of your review if you can't wait for the Games to start!**

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><p><em>Jelly Beans<em>

**Cordin Vasquez**

There's a soft rapping on my door and I resurface into reality. It's too early, but I knew last night that I'd be getting up at the crack of dawn.

There's barely any sunlight to guide my fingers to the lightswitch, but I manage. Then I dress in the simple clothes laid out for me and meet my team at the elevators.

"Good morning, sleepy head," my mentor, Cecil, says with no enthusiasm.

"Morning," I mumble. My escort pokes me playfully.

"Oh, come on! Don't be such a grump. It's a beautiful day!"

"Bite me," I snap. Ash stands uncomfortably between us. We pile into the elevator and zoom up onto the roof.

The ladder to the hovercraft freezes me in place. I hate it. The man on the hovercraft puts a needle in my arm, injecting what he calls a tracker. I loathe him. The attendants on the hovercraft offer me food and drinks. I lash out at them.

"Do I _look_ like I want a _freaking hot chocolate?_" I yell, and the young girl runs out. I sit back, pleased with her response.

"Don't scream at the attendants. It's not their fault," Cecil says, taking the seat next to me.

But it is their fault. It's the attendants' and the escorts' and even Cecil's fault that I'm here, now, flying to my death. Anyone who isn't in my situation right now is to blame. For not being strong enough to stop them from taking me. And besides. If it's not their fault, who else do I have to blame? The Capitol, yes. But not out loud. That would ensure that I never return home.

So I simply reply, "Whatever."

**Penelopy Brown**

I sip anxiously on the water in my hand, determined to stay hydrated before I risk having no water at all. Reno sits across from me, staring blankly out the window. I know how he feels. My stomach does a somersault every five minutes.

I notice he's chewing on something; something I can't quite place. They're brightly colored beans. I've never seen them before. Reno catches me staring at them.

"Jelly beans," he says, returning his gaze to the window.

"What?" I say, not understanding.

"I'm eating jelly beans. They're good. Want some?" He holds out a handful. I take a pink one and pop it in my mouth.

The taste is sweet, too sweet. I wrinkle my nose in disgust and spit it on the floor.

"Yeah, I don't like the pink ones," he says. But it's more than that. It's the fact that they, along with everything else around me, were made in the Capitol. The bright, shiny, too-colorful-to-be-real Capitol, and these sweetly-flavored candies reflect it more than anything I've encountered so far. I want nothing to do with them.

Of course, I can't explain the way I feel to him. Heck, I can barely explain it to myself. All I know is I don't want more. He offers a blue one up, but I shake my head. "Too sweet."

**Reno Bolven**

After what I assume is four hours of flying, we land in the catacombs. I'm directed to the place where I will enter the arena, and my stylist, Berlin, joins me. She dresses me in a light blue t-shirt made of breathable material, brown pants, knee-high black hiking boots, and a grey sweatshirt with a hood and drawstrings. I pull my hood up and pull it tight so it covers my face. Berlin says I should take it down; to show the audience my face. But I don't want to. I don't want them to see me.

A mechanical voice tells me it's time for launch. I step onto the plate and square my shoulders. After a moment, my plate begins to rise. I'm engulfed in complete darkness, and then blinded by the light.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, let the 176th Hunger Games begin!"


	19. Welcome to the Arena

**A message from The Panda: Le bloodbath awaits. Muahaha.  
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**The Panda**

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><p><em>Welcome to the Arena<br>_

**Sanjay Lesa**

I scan the area quickly. The tributes are surrounding the Cornucopia. To my right and on the other side of the Cornucopia are woods, but they have different trees. One is evergreen and the other... I'm not sure. Thin scraggly trees with no leaves and hardly any form of protection. Behind me and to my left is a river, moving too fast to fish or bath in.

I've only just located my fellow Careers when the gong sounds, and I take off running.

**Reno Bolven**

As soon as I step off my plate, I head toward the waterbottle a few yards to my left and grab it with ease. Quickly scanning the stuff on the ground around me, I see a green tent. I know this could be critical in self-preservation later on, so I swoop down and take it.

Then I run. I'm not sure who's next to me or who comes after me; the hood obscures my view. But I see Penelopy, already injured and on the ground. So, before turning to the woods, I scoop her up in my arms and take off. She's unconscious, and I don't know where she's bleeding from. All I know is that my hands, chest, and forearms are covered in the slick liquid.

"Mm..." she moans, and as soon as we're well concealed from the trees and I'm sure no one's pursuing us, I lay her down to assess the damage.

I'm not really sure why I saved her. It meant risking death, and yet I ran for her. I guess it's because she's so young, and I always loathe anyone who doesn't ally with their district partner right away. But when I see the gash that runs from her upper-back to left hip, I know I can't help her. I do notice the pack and small knife she has clutched in her hand. I slowly remove them and set them next to my own supplies.

She breathes, slowly, in little bursts of breath. I hold her hand, unsure of what else to do. I wish I knew who cut her so I could avenge her somehow, but there's no way to know that. So I sit, helpless, watching the life drain out of her. When I'm sure she's gone, I put the bottle and knife in her pack, throw it over my shoulder, tuck the tent under my arm, and continue into the woods.

**Ash Hunt**

The first thing I do when the gong sounds is turn around and jump in the river.

The current is strong, and I'm not a good swimmer. I'm swept away like leaves and other various things in the rushing water. I come up once or twice, just long enough to sputter for air, and then I'm pulled back under. When the waves finally slow, I haul myself onto the bank, wheezing. Well, at least I don't have to worry about dehydration. I've swallowed enough water to last me days.

The earth is vocered in twigs and weeds that poke me and get tangled in my wet hair. I sit up and take in my surroundings.

A few feet to my right is a thick jungle. I wander into the green, slippery trees and find their branches full of colorful fruits. Birds, squirrels, and other creatures are abundant. But I don't trust this paradise, where everything is so ripe and ready to eat. I've seen this before; everything attractive must be just as deadly. Instead, I know the ugly, gnarled roots to be edible and some of the fruits; the brown, shriveled ones. They may be on the brink of rotten, but they're plenty good for now. I pick a few and choke down their tough, hardened interior. You'd think all fruits get soft and mushy after they're ripe.

**Rosebud Snider**

I don't know where to go. To my right is Brooke, the sly girl from Four. To my left is Sanjay, the large boy from Two. I decide to stand there when the gong rings out, hoping they'll ignore me and go to the Cornucopia. Brooke does; she heads away from me toward the bloodbath. But Sanjay barrels toward me.

I don't see any weapons in his hand, but he could still end my life. I stumble in the opposite direction, toward thick, green woods. But he's too fast. He comes up behind me, grabs the hood of my sweatshirt, and raises his sword. I don't know where he got it from; he must have picked it up along the way. It comes down on me before I can scream.

**Grover Buse**

I break out into a sprint, trying to make it into the safety I know will come from the woods. But out of nowhere, the girl from One tackles me to the ground. She begins to throw puches; she is unarmed.

Pain take sover and I can't form thoughts. There's no ground, no sky, no audience. It's only me and her and her fists, making contact over and over.

My sister... she needs me. The thought of her watching on the screen gives me strength; I push the girl off of me with a grunt and stand. The ground is spinning, and my right eye has swelled shut. I'm pretty sure my nose is broken.

I kick her in the ribs a few times before she grasps my ankle and pulls me to the ground. Then she takes my shoulders, lifts me up, and slams my head against the ground. Once, twice, three times. Then my vision shatters and I can feel my skull cave in.

**Maril Rane**

After the boy from Six is dead, I whip around, amazed with my newfound power. I don't even need a weapon. I'm just as deadly without one.

The cripple from Eight batches me eye as he strugles to run away with his crutch. I grin and full-out run after him.

In thirty seconds I've put him in a head-lock, wrestled his crutch from him, and beaten him to death with it. There. That's sure to get me sponsors.

**Alana Burg**

Rip grabs me from behind. I shriek as my feet are lifted off the ground and he holds me up like a doll.

He's got a trident. I didn't see him pick it up, but he has it now. I only have time to let out a strangled cry before I feel the tips of it pierce my chest.

**Blanco Gates**

"And... turn to sky shot," I order the people controlling the screens. Now the audience will get a first glimpse of the arena from above, and those smart enough to understand will see the gameboard. The squares, forming a rectangle, are marked by their difference in trees. Some are natural, others abnormal. In the center is a lake, surrounded by regular woods. To the south-west of the lake is a large, grassy field, and east of there is a cliff to keep tributes from finding the lake too soon; it blocks the way from the Cornucopia to the only other source of water besides the river.

This is great... just great. Every day there will be a change in the sponsor system. The tributes won't know it, but the mentor's will. It could be anything from a deduction of $20 available for gifts to a multiplication of ten times the available money. It will be interesting, exciting, and nothing but torturous for those tributes who need something _desperately. _

"Uh, Blanco?" my second in command, Jeque, calls for my attention.

"Yes?" I ask, sticking my hands in my pockets.

"The bloodbath's over," he informs me.

"Fantastic! Ready the cannons. How many?"

"Eight, sir."

"Great. One third of them gone. A nice number. Not too much. Not too little. Go on, then." I can hear the eight cannon blasts on the monitor. The remaining tributes are startled. Good. I love the look of fear and anticipation in their eyes as another death is anounced.

**Damon Ryder**

As the sun begins to set, I decide to rest. The woods have gone from thin and leafless to broad with twisted vines curling around the branches that seem to have too many leaves. Each one's trunk is wide enough to fit two of me. There's a hollowed tree that I settle into and decide to look over my stuff.

After the gong sounded, I ran for the Cornucopia, grabbed something black, and darted for the trees. Now I see that what I grabbed was a blanket, and inside it is a loot too good to be true.

There's a set of three daggers, all different lengths. Some weird glasses that I put on, and I find that they help me see in complete darkness. There's a can of a foul-smelling spray. I don't know what it is, but I bet it will come in handy. Also, I find an empty water jug and some gloves made of a strange material.

The temperature is moderate, but I wrap myself in the blanket anyway. The sky is lit up with the seal of the Capitol and the anthem plays. Then I see the faces of those dead.

The first to appear is th girl from Three. I killed her. She was a real pain in the butt during training, so I finished her off when she ran into me. Next to show is the girl from Five, followed by the boy from Six, the boy from Eight, the boy from Nine, my district partner, Alana, the boy from Eleven, and the girl from Twelve. All dead. All gone.

There doesn't seem to be any animals in this section of the woods. I drift off to sleep almost instantly.

**Lucetta Winter**

We travel a while before making camp. When we finally stop, the woods have gone from evergreens to birch trees to sticky maple trees.

Our group decides to rest tonight and hunt at dawn. I'm glad for the break.

The nightly death toll shows nothing interesting. My fellow allies laugh and talk about who they killed and how, but I just watch the smiles of the kids who will never smile again.


	20. We're Stronger Together

**A message from The Panda: Okay, so here is today's twist in the point system- I am subtracting 5 points from everyone. So everyone has 15 points right now. Happy Hunger Games!  
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**The Panda**

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><p><em>We're Stronger Together<em>

**Meghan Belis**

I crouch behind a gnarled bush as the sun comes up, slowly warming my cold face. In the coming light, I spot Jay struggling to stay awake as a guard.

His eyes, heavy with fatigue, slowly close while his companions sleep. But I can't let him dose off. He'd be killed if the others found out, and I don't plan on that happening.

No, I don't love him. I don't really know what I feel. We had a small connection during training, and I've caught him staring at me multiple times since we've been in the Capitol. I don't know what his gaze means. All I know is that I don't want him to die.

So I take a branch of the bush and snap it, and rustle the plant for good measure. He starts, alert, and stares right at me. I don't think he sees me, though, because he relaxes after a minute. When the others stay still, I slowly rise from my hiding spot.

Now he sees me.

Gripping his long, curved sword, he sneaks over to me, a slightly pleased look in his eyes.

**Jay Red**

She came. I wasn't sure if she would. I thought she'd be too scared, or wouldn't care about me, or be dead by now. But she must feel something, because here she is.

"Hey, Meghan," I say casually, as if we're old pals.

"Hi," she replies cautiously. I don't blame her. I drop my sword and cross my arms.

"Look, I don't want to stay with these losers. I'm leaving them in a few minutes. I can help you survive, if you want," I offer. I know it's risky. My father is probably cursing at the screen right now, calling me every fowl name he knows. I can hear him now. _"What are you DOING? The girl from ELEVEN? She'll get you killed, you idiot! KILLED! Kill her now, before she has the chance! NOW!"_

But I don't want to kill her. Not now, not ever. All I want is for her to team up with me.

"Okay. I- I could use some help," she says. "But why not kill them before we go. Less competition, you know." I do know. I thought about it all night. But I can't.

"No. There's too many of them. Once they hear the first cannon, they'll be on us both before we can scream. Better to sneak out now with most of the supplies and get a good head start before they begin to hunt."

"And we'll be the first people they come after." I nod. She looks at Rip, who's begun to wake.

"Come on, we've got to get out of here." So we stock up with four backpacks; two each, which we stuff with food, medical supplies, and weapons. Leaving them with almost nothing, we head west into a part of the woods with more familiar trees.

**Rip Waters**

The sound of running feet wakes me. I sit up, grasping for the trident I know will be a few feet to my le-

Wait. Where's my trident? I look around and see all the missing supplies. We've been robbed.

"Get up!" I say sternly, shaking and kicking the others until they stand. "Someone took our stuff."

"What?" Sanjay says, bewildered. "But, how? Wait, where's Jay?"

"Whoever took our stuff must have killed him first," says Maril.

"No, there's no blood on the ground. There's no sign of a struggle. And we would've heard the cannon. Jay must've taken our stuff and bolted," Lucetta says matter-of-factly. I roll my eyes. There's lots of groans and swearing going on, all at Jay's expense.

"I knew we couldn't trust him," I say, kicking a rock near the place where my trident used to be. "Now we have nothing!"

"No, there's some of the larger weapons; spears and bows with arrows. And a little bit of food. But no water. Crap, we need water!" Lucetta points out.

"I _know _that we need water," I say. "Just shut up. No one cares about your opinion, anyway." I see her reach for a knife on her belt, but Brooke comes between us.

"Guys, chill out. We don't need to turn on each other right now. Let's just use what we have and we'll find more water. There was a river at the Cornucopia. We can get some there."

"Why not just fight it out now and whoever's left can take the stuff and move on?" asks Maril, and Sanjay nods.

"Because we're stronger together, and it's better to weed out the weaker ones before we break the alliance," Brooke replies.

"I think we should just get it over with. The best of the best will win, and then it's pretty much a cake walk from here on out," I say.

"Fine, let's vote. Anyone who wants to turn on each other now, raise your hand," she says. I feel so childish, like when I was little and we'd do votes in school for which crayon was best. But I raise my hand, because I really want to kill Brooke right now. Sanjay and Maril also raise their hands, but Sanjay changes his mind and puts his back down.

"So Lucetta and Sanjay, you vote to stay as a team?" They nod, and Brooke smiles. "That's that. Three against two. We win." I want to pluck her eyes out and mutilate every other part of her face before slowly plunging a blade into her lungs, but I control myself. I have to wait until we're alone, where I can do it without risking a knife in the back from another Career.

**Emilliea Froste**

I look over my shoulder to make sure my little ally is still there. Hime and I teamed up yesterday afternoon and began moving this morning as soon as it was light enough to see.

My stomach growls longingly. There's dried fruit and beef strips in my pack, but the handfull of cranberries and four strips I split between the two of us this morning isn't enough. As the sun climbs higher into the sky, the heat and hunger get worse and worse. Finally I break down and finish off the fruit with Hime.

Now that we're somewhat satisfied, we seem to move faster. Eventually we reach a part of the forest with tall trees that seem to have spikes coming out of the trunks. I touch one with the tip of my finger. Razor-sharp. There's no way we could climb these trees.

After a few paces into these strange woods, a lose my footing on what I guess is just slippery ground. But I don't stop at the earth, like I expected. I keep falling.

Darkness swallows me up and I can hear Hime's screams as she too falls into this trap. I try to scream, but my throat has closed up in terror. I struggle to breathe, but the fall is slowing and I think I might come to the bottom until it violently twists upward. Some unnatural force yanks me to the top and I'm spit out into a jungle thick with vegitation.

I hear Hime's gasp as she lands next to me. When she looks up, she gives a small yelp of delight. The branches of these trees are full of fruit and animals just waiting to be eaten. I smile, sure that I won't be hungry for a while.

Hime gets up and admires the beautiful colors of a plump, round fruit I can't name.

"Should we eat? I mean, there's obviously enough to last us a few days," she says, and I agree. So we both take one of the plump fruits and strip it of the skins. Inside is a pale green melon-like fruit. I know I should probably, wait for Hime to finish peeling her's, but it looks so inviting, I just have to try it. It's delicious. I bite it, again and again, until it's gone and I lick the remaining juice off my fingers. Hime is just about to eat her's when my muscles are overcome with spasms.

**Hime Saisori**

"Emmie!" I scream as she stands, stunned, twitching uncontrollably. I drop the fruit and reach her as she crumbles to the ground, now shaking violently.

"Emmie?" I ask, willing her to come back to me, to stop trembling, to laugh like it's a joke. But it only gets worse.

Her eyes roll to the back of her head and saliva over-produces in her mouth, bubbling out and spilling onto her cheeks. I take her hand and she begins to calm. Now her eyes are closed and her spit has stopped flowing. I think she might be okay when the blistering begins.

They appear quickly and grow rapidly. First on her neck, chest, and stomach. Then they spread to the rest of her, sizzling and searing through her clothes. I drop her hand with a yelp as the skin burns away.

_Poison, _I think. I look at the fruit, the one I was about to eat, and my eyes widen in horror. Emmie's cannon fires, and that's when I run, not thinking to grab her pack and too scared to turn back. I just need to get as far away from this section as possible.

**Anna Sellta**

I need to rest. I've been moving all day, and now it's almost sundown. I finaly made it out of the stinking woods and into a clearing. I drink the water from the river without cleaning it; I'm too thirsty to care. When I sit on a rock to catch my breath, the ground begins to rumble.

I stand up, remembering what I was taught to do in an earthquake. I run away from the trees until I'm out of reach, then look at my feet, hoping that the ground doesn't split open. It doesn't.

In fact, this is no earthquake at all. I stumble away as the giant wall of water rises from the river. It crashes over, and since the river curves through the clearing, it's coming at me from all sides.

"AHHHHHHHHHH!" I scream, but it's cut off as my legs are pulled from under me and I'm tumbling under the water.

I can't breathe. I can't think. I can't move on my own. All I can do is tumble forward, hoping the current slows sometime soon.

My lungs burn in need of air. But I can't surface to get the oxygen I need. Panic begins to set in. I'm going to drown.

The thought pulls me up short. I'm going to drown. This isn't _that _bad a way to die, considering where I am. Relief and peace flood my body and I let the water come into my lungs.

There's a choking moment where I want to scream but can't, and then I feel myself sinking. The inside of my eyelids shine bright, and I let myself slip away.

**Tyler Grimes**

The sound of the cannon startles me. The sun is settinf now, though. And it's not long before I see the faces.

The girl from Six, Anna. That means the Careers are still alive, still a threat. Then comes the girl from Nine... what was her name? Amelia? Well, I guess it doesn't matter much now. I'll probably never find out.


	21. Plotting

**A message from The Panda: Today's system twist is... -10 points for everyone. But now your reviews count for points, so... check bottom for your points from here on out. Also, I made a mistake. Some will have more points for submitting more tributes.**

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**The Panda**

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><p><em>Plotting<em>

**Maril Rane**

I'm really thirsty.

As we make the trip back to the Cornucopia for river water, I can sense the tension in our group. Ever since Jay left, and we discussed turning on each other, no one's been talking much. I guess the thought of how ready some of us were to kill each other just rubbed them the wrong way. Whatever. I plan on killing them all in their sleep tonight anyway.

"Guys, let's stop to rest. I need to catch my breath." Lucetta leans against a tree, breathing heavy.

"No. Come on, guys, you're better than this. We've been trained for long-distance, haven't we?" I snap. Lucetta shakes her head.

"Without water, we can't move at our regular pace. Slow down a bit, Maril." I roll my eyes and keep moving.

"Fine. If you want to be left behind, I couldn't care less. Come on, guys." I hear reluctant feet shuffling in my direction and whip around. "Well?" I demand, placing my hands on my hips. "Quit fooling around! Do you want water or not?"

"Maril, just wait a bit. The faster we move, the more we sweat. Better to preserve what little hydration we have and slow down," Brooke says and the boys nod.

"Whatever," I gasp and sit down, unwilling to admit my own fatigue.

**Jacob Frond**

There's a sudden movement in the oak trees around me. I whip my head to the left, where I'm sure it came from. I catch the glint of sunlight off a blade and stiffen.

"Hello?" I call quietly. The tribute shifts his weight and steps into and open space where I can see him. It's Tyler, the boy from Five.

"I don't want to hurt you," he says, stepping forward. Now I can see the six-inch knife in his hand.

"Are you sure?" I ask, fighting to keep my voice calm. "If not... just get it over with." He smiles and drops the knife.

"Allies?" Tyler extends his right hand. I shake it for a moment and quickly let go. He notices my canteen.

"Got anything in there?" he asks, nodding toward it.

"No. I ran out of water yesterday. Haven't found a place to refill it since." He sees the pouch on my belt, which holds the eight crackers and single roll I have left. I see the hunger in his eyes and know that he must not be eating. So I open the pouch and toss him the roll. It's gone in a minute.

"Thanks. So, which way should we go?"

**Kyra Reed**

I double over with cramps of hunger.

I'm still not sure of what's safe to eat around here, even after taking the edible bugs and plants tests in training. Guess I wasn't paying attention.

I could try to shoot some game, but none of these animals look familiar to me. Still, I clutch my bow and arrows tight, because I can't afford to lose them.

My throat is as dry as the yellowish grass around my knees. I wonder if this is edible. But I can't take chances like that. I ran out of water yesterday morning. I never knew how much my body needed it.

It feels strange, being in the open like this. But no one and nothing attacks me, so I keep going. The field seems relatively safe. And if I can't hide, neither can my competitors.

I continue forward, keeping the forest to my right. But after a while I realize that I'm surrounded by wilderness, and I'll have to go back into the trees eventually.

But there's something fresh in the air. I can't place it, but it seems promising. I wander into the woods and the air - the smell - gets stronger. Then, through the trees, I see a clearing. Hear the lapping of waves against a shore. And I break into a run.

Sure enough, there's a lake. I rush up to it and run in the water until I'm thigh-deep in the fresh water. I scoop some up in my cupped palms and drink. Again. It tastes a little funny, and I'm vaguely aware that the water might not be clean. But I seem fine now, so I drink my fill and then top off my canteen with it.

**Brooke Waters**

The sun begins to set. There were no deaths today.

Maril eyes the rest of us suspiciously, so when the time comes to decide who guards tonight, I quickly volunteer.

"But I can do it. I'm not tired," Maril counters.

"No, no. Really. Go to bed," I insist and she lays down slowly.

Now the anthem plays and there are no faces to see. The Gamemakers are probably already scheming up ways to get the blood to flow. But I like the peace, and I want it to stay that way.

I get up and hold my sword to my chest, circling the other Careers quietly. I stop over Maril and lift the blade, then put it back down as if I changed my mind.

The audience will be on the edge of their seats, trying to see if I will turn on the group I convinced to stay together. So I whisper, "Yes. Tomorrow you all will be gone, and I will go and kill everyone else too. But for now, sleep. Rest. I don't want your ends to be too easy." There. That should hold them off until tomorrow, when they realize my plot was fake.

Or was it? As I think about it, plans form in my head. It all makes sense. I could do it, for real. I could slaughter them all and then finish the others off as well. They already have my trust, since I told them not to fight. They'd never believe that I myself was planning to fight them all, and win.

With this new revelation, I can't stop the smile that creeps onto my face.

* * *

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	22. Benedict Waters

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><p><em>Benedict Waters<br>_

**Reno Bolven  
><strong>

Sunlight is supposed to be warm, right?

As the fiery ball of light rises over the horizon, the air does not change temperature. When I can fully make out all the features of the arena again, my hands still have a tint of blue. Confusing, but not uncommon in the arena.

I slowly step out of my tent and pack it up. I have Penelopy's pack on my back and no water. I head down the steep hill I've set camp on toward the river and fill the bottle.

Inside her pack I found a small bag of dried fruit and some cheese. The latter's gone; I ate it first so it wouldn't spoil. I've been trying to save the fruit, but I haven't eaten in fourteen hours. I tentatively open the bag and pick at the cranberries.

**Sanjay Lesa**

I miss breakfast.

Ever since Jay stole our stuff, I've barely eaten. I can definitely notice weight loss in all my allies. I run my fingers over my chest, feeling each and every rib. This is unnatural. I need to be fed.

"Who wants to go hunting?" I ask, standing up.

"I'm not in the mood for a chase," Rip says.

"Not tributes. Animals. Something to eat."

"No. Let's stay here. If we go, we'll waste our energy," Maril says, exasperated.

"And if we stay, we'll starve," I argue. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Brooke draw her sword and think she's on my side. But instead she swings her arm around and plunges the blade into my chest.

**Ash Hunt**

The cannon blasts. 30 seconds later, another follows. I wonder who they were. Probably Career victims.

Now there's... how many left? I count them on my fingers, starting with District One. Jay, Maril, Lucetta, Sanjay, me, Brooke, Rip, the kid from Five, Hime, Jacob, Kyra, Damon, the girl from Eleven, and Reno. Minus two. So, twelve.

I haven't left this area of toxic plants. I haven't been faced with any threats so far, haven't seen another tribute. Well, except those two girls - Emilliea and Hime. But one of them was poisoned. Idiot.

I watched the whole thing from above in a tree. I could have stopped her from taking that fatal bite. I could have picked up Hime as an ally after Emmie died. But I just sat there, motionless.

I've thought a lot about what I could have done. But I'm not exactly the trusting type. In the end, I made the smart decision.

Right?

**Damon Ryder **

The lake has become my main source of water. It's fresh, clean, and I don't have much competition for it. Only the occasional animal. Oh, and that girl from Eight, Kyra. She found it yesterday and has set up camp about a mile away. I don't think she's seen me yet; I've stayed just inside the tree line and only go out to the clearing when I need water.

The spray I found at the Cornucopia, I learned, is bugspray. It smells terrible, but it works. I see Kyra swatting mosquitoes and other mutant bugs the Gamemakers have placed here, but I haven't been bothered with a single one.

I spend most of my afternoon trying to find food. That's been my biggest problem, since the fish in the lake are all too small to be of any worth. There are a few blackberry bushes, but the fruits aren't ripe enough. I haven't eaten in a couple days when I found that field. The grains growing there are the same the cattle eat back home. They weren't particularly good, but they haven't killed me. Yet.

I gathered an armful of the stuff, but it didn't last long. I don't want to risk the trip back to the field; I'd have to get closer to Kyra in order to find my way, and I've seen how good she is with that bow.

The night comes quickly. Usually there's a temperature drop, but it's been cold all day. The gloves I found weren't much help. They're thin and papery. I can't imagine their purpose.

I raise my head to the sky when the anthem begins. There were only two deaths today, Maril Rane and Sanjay Lesa. Both Careers. Strange...

**Lucetta Winter**

Brooke attacked us. I noticed she was acting strange this morning. I should have known she was thinking of betrayal.

After she killed Sanjay, she went after Maril and cut her deep. She died within the minute. Rip disarmed Brooke and was about to deliver the death blow when she twisted out of his grasp and ran, unarmed, with no supplies. He turned to me, breathing heavily.

"Let's go our own wa-" I began, but he charged. I sidestepped swiftly and pushed him down. He tried to get up but I sat on his back, pinning him on the ground.

"Listen," I snapped. "Either we're allies or we're not. I wasn't the one who just went rogue, okay? Brooke is. We have no reason to kill each other."

"This- alliance- is ov-er," he said, struggling for breath.

"Fine," I said. His face was turning red. His head dropped to the ground. He wasn't dead; there was no cannon. But he was definitely unconcious as I took as many weapons and supplies as I could before running off.

I don't know why I didn't just kill him then. Maybe it was pity. He was so easy to pin down. And I don't like winning a battle too easily.

**Meghan Belis**

Jay and I have been traveling since Day Two. We've reached this clearing and are settling in for the night.

"Didn't take long for the Careers to turn on themselves," he says, laying out our sleeping bags.

"How do you know they turned? They could have been killed by another tribute," I reply.

"Yeah, by who? None of the others could have killed Sanjay _and _Maril that quickly."

"It's possible. There were some biggere tributes. What if they teamed up and attacked?"

"Maybe, but unlikely. Why don't you go to bed? I'll keep watch." I crawl into my sleeping bag and lie there for a while.

I don't remember falling asleep, but now Jay is shaking me, telling me to wake up and run.

"What? What's going on? Who-"

"Not who, what!" Jay cuts me off and points to the giant wave building up, up, up...

I've just begun to run when it breaks.

**Jay Red **

Meghan screams. I turn around to take her hand, but she's disappeared in the water. I swallow the fear, the pain, and continue to run away from the wave, holding on to the supplies.

I guess the cannon blasts, but I don't hear it. I've run back into the forest of thin, leafless trees and continue to run until I trip on a vine.

I fall, hit the ground, and bite my tongue. The metallic taste of my blood overtakes and I cry. Not because of the pain; I can take a simple cut. But I've lost Meghan, so quickly, and it doesn't seem real. But it is real, and my dreams are haunted by her last scream.

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	23. Survival

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><p><em>Survival<br>To some, it comes naturally. Others are handed it. _

**Rip Waters**

I've just barely woken up when the silver parachute lands on my chest. It's heavy - really heavy - and large. I open the basket attatched and find a full-body armor suit, a trident, night vision glasses, a full waterbottle, ten strips of beef jerkey, and twelve crackers.

This must have cost a fortune. Guess people really like me. I smile, eat two crackers and a strip of beef, then grip my trident tight. It's the perfect gift, exactly what I needed.

There's nothing, and hardly anyone, to stop me now. I really only need to take out Jay, Brooke, and Lucetta. The crown will practically be mine at that point.

I stand, but immediately vomit up my meager breakfast. My head aches and my vision is spinning. I haven't exactly recovered from Lucetta's attack. I still don't understand why she didn't kill me. She's probably just weak, a coward. When I find her, she will not meet my mercy.

I wait another hour before standing again. Now, I'll hunt.

What day is it? Four? Five? I'll be victor by the end of the week.

**Hime Saisori**

I've spent the past few days in a section of the woods made up of sticky, sweet-smelling trees. I think they're called maple, like the syrup.

There's no food here. I can't live like this. I'm weakening with every breath. My head hurts so bad, I can't think of anything else. I don't even notice him until he's standing over me.

"Oh," I say, seeing Tyler Grimes standing before me. My heartbeat quickens, not with fear but with longing. He's handsome, nice, friendly. And only two years older than me.

"Hime, right?" he asks, and I nod, somewhat embarrassed. I had a silly hope that he would have taken notice of me too, but it was wishful thinking. He's probably been preoccupied with the threat of his death. Who wouldn't be?

Me, that's who. I've become pretty confident of my survival, and humiliated that a common threat such as hunger will most likely be my end.

"Food?" I ask, and realize how weak my voice is.

"There isn't much left," says another voice. I turn around and see Jacob Frond, my district partner, who must be his ally. "But you can have it." He tosses me a pouch containing three crackers. I force myself to eat them slowly. My mouth seems far too big for the small amounts of food I'm putting in it, but I resist the urge to stuff them in and possibly choke.

"Thank you," I say when I'm done. "Do you mind if I tag along with you guys?"

"Not at all," Tyler says. My stomach tightens with joy. "We passed a field that had edible grasses. They weren't exactly good, but they didn't kill us."

"Why didn't you collect some?" I ask. It doesn't make sense.

"We weren't planning on leaving the field. But Jacob heard you moaning and recognized your voice. He insisted we come find you." I'm a little hurt, since it sounds like Tyler didn't want to come find me. But I'm grateful toward Jacob. Without his compassion, I probably would've perished.

**Tyler Grimes**

Hime, Jacob, and I all go back to the field. We eat our fill of the gross grass and then watch the sun slowly rise, peak over our heads, and begin setting in the west.

At approximately two in the afternoon, Jacob stands.

"We shouldn't just sit here. We're fish in a barrel. Come on. Let's collect what we can and move out."

"I'm too weak to go. I didn't eat for two days. Please, could we rest?"

"I'm rest_less _Hime. I feel the need to move. I can't explain it. How about I go walk around, see if I can find a more appetizing source of food and maybe something to drink. Tyler, you stay with Hime."

"Don't wander off," she says. In a few minutes he's gone.

**Jacob Frond**

I walk around for a little bit in the woods adjacent to my allies. Soon I come up behind another tribute, Kyra Reed. She doesn't notice me; she's napping. I quietly sneak around her and spot the lake.

Excited, I race back to our camp. Tyler and Hime have engaged in a deep conversation, laughing and smiling at each other. After a while they just stare, obviously head over heels for each other. I clear my throat and they look at me.

"I found water. I'm going to fill the bottles."

"Wait, it might not be safe. And we don't have anything to purify it with," Hime says. I shake my head.

"I'd rather die of unclean water than dehydration. Wouldn't you?"

"Not really. There's the risk of many painful and slow-killing diseases, like cholera," Tyler warns.

"Look, do you want to drink or what?" I snap, fed up with them.

"I do. I'm willing to risk it," Hime says.

Tyler sighs. "Okay. Go ahead."

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	24. Glints of Silver

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><p><em>Glints of Silver<br>Who ever said giving was better than receiving?  
><em>

**Jacob Frond**

We circled the lake yesterday and began walking in the woods. It's about ten in the morning now, and none of us seem to be sick. I guess the water's safe. A little sweet, but safe.

A few minutes after we're all awake, we begin to walk again. Hime's still waking up, but the movement will hopefully keep her alert. I don't understand how she could sleep so well, especially in our situation.

The trees gradually turn into thick evergreens. The smell of pine is so strong, it begins to makes me nauseous. No, it's not just the pine...

The sound of Tyler vomitting confirms it. There's something bad in the air. Hime senses it a moment before I do. She's taking Tyler's hand, leading him away and holding her hand over her mouth and nose. She motions for me, and I try to follow, but I'm so light-headed. And sweaty. And cold. Why am I so cold?

The vommitting begins. It's mostly water, but my stomach cramps as if it's working hard to get anything and everything out - even the vital stuff. I collapse and curl into a ball, but it doesn't make a dent in the pain. This isn't a normal virus. It's been enhanced; influenza squared. Oh, they're good. The Gamemakers are _so_ good...

Delerium washes over me. The world bends. Tyler's calls turn high-pitched. Hime tries to calm him, tells him it's too late. I see my family, everyone watching from behind a tree. They're hiding from me. I want to speak to them, but all that comes out is a scream.

I begin drift in and out of a sleep - no, it's more like a coma. Hime and Tyler are gone now. The sun is directly above me. Now it's afternoon. This thing is killing me, slowly, thoroughly.

I'd take a slit throat any day.

**Kyra Reed**

Hime Saisori and Tyler Grimes sit by me, grimly, as they try to block out their ally's cries. I don't want to team up with them; I'd rather be on my own. But they proposed a truce, and I accepted. They explained their situation, and they were tired. I have my bow close at hand, though, in case it's a trick. But the pain coming out across the arena is no joke. And they don't seem to be paying me much attention.

I've only seen a romance in the Games twice before. I've heard of them, they come around every few years. Last year Jesse Tame and Alacia Odair were the talk of Panem. Everyone wondered if there would be a rule change like there was in the 74th Hunger Games. They were so popular in the Capitol, there were rallies to have the change enforced. But they didn't of course. Because Senea Crane was demoted after those Games.

The other couple I've seen was in the 170th Games. Sydney Walker from Six and Jasper Pike from Three. They died in each other's arms on day four. I was young then, but the idea was hauntingly beautiful anyway.

**Rip Waters**

It's mid-afternoon when the cannon sounds. Good. I was beginning to think there would be no deaths. Again. I'm sure the Gamemakers were already planning something terrible for us. But maybe this death was entertaining enough.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a glint of silver. A parachute!

I open it, disappointed to see it's only an empty water bottle and some vial with a clear liquid. I unscrew the vial cap and smell it. Immediately, my vision blurs and I begin to cough.

I learned about this in training. It's poison, stronger than most. What was it called again? The instructor said it's like fire; it burns you from the inside. Liquid Flame. That's what he called it. A single drop, if swallowed, will kill you in about an hour. A mouthful, which is all that's in the vial, could kill you instantly.

And injected into the bloodstream... it blisters the skin, eats through vains, nerves, muscles. Once it reaches the heart, lungs, or brain, it's fatal. Depending on where it enters the body, the time it takes to kill varies. If only I had a syringe.

Wait. I've got better than a needle. My trident! Yes, I'm sure that's what it's for. But I won't load it until I'm ready to kill. If I accidentally touch it...

I do need water, though. Damn. How am I going to find water? Well, at least the excitement of my gift has taken the edge off my thirst.

**Reno Bolven**

A silver parachute lands on my head. It's big. Excitement wells inside of me; is it a weapon? A meal? No.

I don't really understand until the pull it all the way out. It's a flesh-colored body suit that protects me from my neck to my ankles. I put it on and hide it with my clothes. It makes me look... bigger. I guess that's a good thing. The other tributes might wonder how I managed to gain weight in the arena. I could seem more intimidating that way.

The sun sets. The anthem plays. Jacob Frond is the one who died today. That leaves ten. I'm surprised that I've lasted this long. But I haven't encountered another tribute since the first day. I wonder where they all are.


	25. The Invitation

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><p><em>An Invitation<br>_

**Damon Ryder**

The sound of the cannon wakes me. It's not even dawn yet, though I see tints of sunlight on the horizon. I wonder if it was an early-morning kill by one of the Careers, or if an alliance was just broken by some untrustworthy tribute.

I sit up, look across the lake. Two figures - I can't make out who they are in this light - run away into the woods. There's a bigger one and someone more slender, younger. She runs faster than he does.

A hovercraft collects a body. The sun, now almost fully above the treeline, catches on her caramel-brown hair.

Kyra. Those tributes must have found her while she slept. But she was more clever than that. She would have heard them and woken. Unless she trusted them...

She didn't make an alliance. At least, not to my knowledge. I didn't see anyone with her when I went to bed last night. Well, she's dead now.

I can't say I'm surprised. She's a sitting duck by this lake. _I'm _a sitting duck. The thought that they could have seen me and just went into the woods to come around from behind...

I gather my things and move into the cover of the trees as the arena floods with sudden light. The sun is too high already, and moving fast. Why?

**Lucetta Winter**

It couldn't be past nine in the morning now, yet the sun is at high noon. It _has_ stopped moving, though. It sits, and I'm getting hotter by the second.

I really should find some water. I haven't had any in over 24 hours, and my mentor warned me that severe dehydration is _not _something I want to encounter in the Games, or at all, for that matter.

I soon come to a lake. It's big and seems fresh enough. There are no other tributes here. I decide to settle down.

I've just bent down to drink when trumpets blare over the arena.

"Attention tributes! I am here today to congratulate the nine tributes left." Nine! That means only one more death until I've made it to the final eight. I wonder how my self-absorbed family is handling this news.

"_And, _to invite you all to a feast, which will happen tomorrow morning at an unknown time at the lake in the center of the arena. Good luck, and I hope to see you all there!"

I smile in anticipation. I'm _so _there.

**Jay Red**

There's a lake? That would have been helpful information two days ago, when I ran out of water. It's extremely hard to get water from this river. The currents are too strong. I've been nearly pulled in twice.

I can't wait to go to that feast. To finally get some kills. It's hard to believe I haven't spilled any blood yet.

My father must be so disappointed. Everything that's happened in this arena should have happened differently. I should have had more kills at the bloodbath. I should have killed Meghan instead of getting attatched. I shouldn't have left my alliance so early.

Well now I have the chance to change my fate here. Tomorrow, there will be death. And maybe I'll even win in the process.

**Rip Waters**

There's the twist.

I knew something would happen. A feast could not have come at a more perfect time, too. I get revenge on Brooke, Lucetta, and Jay all at once. Not to mention the casualties that'll happen on the side. I pity any poor, starving tribute stupid enough to face me at this thing.

Pfft. Winning will be almost too easy.

After several hours of the sun being stationary at the top of the sky, it rapidly begins to set. Won't be long before it's dark and we get to see who died this morning. I hope it's one of the less significant ones. That way tomorrow will be much more fun.

**Hime Saisori**

"Hime, come on. It's okay. I won't hurt you." Tyler takes a step toward me, but I shrink back against the tree. Tears well in my eyes. I hope he can't see it in the fading light.

He killed her. He killed Kyra even though I told him not to. I close my eyes, releasing the tears and the memory comes back.

_"Ty, no! She didn't do anything to us. She helped us, please!"_

_"If I get rid of her, she'll be one less tribute to face later on."_

_"If you get rid of her, you're a murderer." _

It didn't matter. He took my dagger and was approaching her when she woke up. She saw the look in his eyes, the weapon in his hand, and was about to scream when he stabbed her through the stomach.

She didn't die right away. She tried to run, but stumbled and fell. Her moans... I could hear them clearly even after I began to run.

I was trembling. Tyler had blood on his hands. I had promised myself I wouldn't kill and I wouldn't let the innocent ones, the ones who had never killed themselves, be killed. I let myself down. And now that I knew Tyler had it in him, I could never trust him again.

So I get up and run as the anthem plays. I know Kyra's face is up there, but I don't look. I just keep running until I've lost Tyler.

If only I could go to sleep tonight an wake up at home, far away from here, from him. And have it all disappear.

If only.


	26. To Dine like a King

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><p><em>To Dine like a King<br>_

**Tyler Grimes**

I wait where Kyra had her camp. The sun is just coming up, and that means it's morning.

Morning. Time for the feast. I wonder if it will have weapons or food.

Food. I want it, I need it. Hime took off with what little wheat we had left, and I don't want to walk all the way back to the field for it.

It's bright enough now to see the area surrounding the lake. I can make out figures around its perimeter, also waiting.

Waiting for the table to appear, and the feast to begin.

I wonder if Hime will come to the feast. I miss her. I worry about her. I wish she'd come so we can be reunited. Although, if she comes, she'll be in the most danger she can be. I don't know what I want to happen now. The two situations conflict in my mind until I close my eyes, clench my fists, and block out all thoughts.

It'd be better if I were dead. Yes, I know that now. Even if we were reunited... to what end? Eventually one of us would die, and I'd rather it be me so she could live happily. Maybe she'd find someone else. Maybe she'd move on.

**Brooke Waters**

I wait silently, hidden by a tree. I have a full view of the lake and all who will go to this feast. I haven't seen anyone yet; they must be hiding as well.

Based on the sun, which has been moving at a normal pace today, it's almost noon already. Whenever the Gamemakers plan to have this feast, they better do it soon.

Suddenly, as if my thoughts were read, a table springs up into the arena. I can't see exactly what lays on it, except for a four-layer cake in the middle.

I smile, overcome with excitement. It is a real _feast. _With food and drinks, just like one would eat in the Capitol. Oh, it's a treat! Delightful! I grip my sword and prepare to go in, to battle anyone who gets in my way.

**Reno Bolven**

I've just reached the lake when the cannon sounds. Is there a death already? Not at the feast; nobody's at the table yet. I take a deep breath, reassured by my armor. Then I go in.

I've only taken one step into the clearing when three other tributes run out, weapons raised, screaming battle cries. They're all Careers: Jay Red, Lucetta Winter, and Brooke Waters. I know there was one more, though...

Sure enough, Rip comes crashing through the trees behind me. He raises his trident and aims it at my heart. All I have is a small knife. I hold it out, gingerly. He throws the trident, and I brace myself for death. But it bounces off, pitifully.

The look of confusion on his face is priceless. He recovers quickly though, and scrambles for his weapon. I close my eyes and bring my blade down on his back as he reaches for it.

**Damon Ryder**

I watch the boy from Twelve stab the guy from Four twice more, but he refuses to die. Obviously not a killer, the stabber staggers back and runs toward the table, where a battle between the three other Careers has been going on.

I want to run in, to join them, but I can't move. I've only killed once before, in the bloodbath. I didn't realize it would change when you're so close to the end, and your victim maybe thought he'd make it home.

Ash Hunt was unprepared. He was going to the feast, obviously starving and salivating at the wonderful smell coming from the table. I came up behind him and overpowered him; he was too small to beat me. And that's why I feel like it wasn't fair. I should have let him go, or at least give him the chance to fight back. But I didn't.

I look up and try to focus on something else. The boy from Four has recovered from the minor stabs and is using his trident as a staff. He makes his way toward the others, where Jay cuts the boy from Twelve across the back. He falls and doesn't get up, but there's no cannon. Not yet.

The Four boy comes up behind the girl from Two and raises his weapon.

**Lucetta Winter**

There's a piercing pain in my calf. I turn around and see Rip. He raises his trident to strike again, but I raise my sword and run it through his stomach. Or, I try to. He moves out of the way.

The next five seconds move slowly. So slowly, in fact, that I have time to process what my fate will be.

_One. _Rip grabs the staff of his trident with both hands. I see my family, my parents and siblings and friends and everyone at home. I see them watching me on their TVs and not being able to stop what's happening to me.

_Two. _I feel a pain worse than before ripping through my leg, and I cry out. That's when I see the liquid dripping from the tips of Rip's trident. Poison.

_Three. _He raises the weapon. Its golden color shines bright in the sun. I try to raise my sword, but the poison has already spread to my fingertips. It falls to the ground with a clang.

_Four. _I fall to the ground myself. My legs have failed me, and I feel the poison working its way to my lungs, to my heart.

_Five. _Rip smiles at me. I see the white of his teeth and think how nice it would be to knock them all out of his mouth. And then the trident falls.

**Jay Red**

I turn to see Lucetta's body get collected. Rip has already begun to run without taking any of the food laid out on the table.

There's a meek sound coming from under the tablecloth. I lift it and see the small girl from Seven, hiding with a basket of rolls from the feast.

"I'll take that, thank you," I say, reaching for it. She pulls out a knife and slices my hand. I jerk it back and hold it up. She cut all the way to the bone.

That pisses me off. I dive under the table, holding my spear out in front of me. She screeches and stumbles back, out into the open. I laugh and stand over her.

"How does it feel to be my first kill?" I ask tauntingly. She whimpers. Perfect. "Oh, how stupid of me. You woudn't know how it feels... _yet._" With that, I throw the spear into her stomach. She cries, moans, and falls silent within thirty seconds. The cannon indicates her death.

"HIME!" the boy from Five calls, running to her as the hovercraft collects her body. I grin like an idiot, holding out my spear in front of me. He's not paying attention to me. His gaze is turned to the sky, where she's already disappeared. And yet, he continues to run. Right into my spear.

**Rip Waters**

The next cannon comes shortly after. That's four deaths today. It should hold the Capitol viewers for at least another day.

Maybe I should go back. There were rolls, still warm. And soups, roasts, cookies, seafood. Not to mention the three-foot cake in the center, decorated with strawberries and cherries and covered in a pale yellow frosting that must taste amazing.

The thought of all this wonderful food turns me around. I quickly reach the sight of the feast, where Jay and Brooke pick over the contents. Once they've gone, I rush out to take some myself.

_Please don't take it away before I get there, _I beg the Gamemakers silently. They must have heard.

On the table are plates, bowls, and silverware to dine with. I take a bit of everything and a lot of seafood. It tastes like home, a place I didn't realize I wanted to return to. Now I'm more determined than ever to win.


	27. Until Tomorrow

**A message from The Panda: Review? Anyone?**

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**The Panda**

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><p><em>Until Tomorrow<em>

**Brooke Waters**

How many tributes left? Well, there's me, Jay, Rip, the boy from Ten, and the boy from Twelve. So... five.

I'm the last girl standing. Huh.

This means something. I'm so close to the end. _So close. _I can't give up now. I have to do whatever it takes to get to the finish-line.

I eat my last roll. It doesn't matter if I have much food left; these Games will be done in a day or two.

After it's gone, I see what else I have to eat. A bit of a light pink soup, some cake, eight pieces of shrimp, and a chunk of ham. I finish the soup and eat half of the ham, then pack up my things to go hunt some tributes.

**Reno Bolven**

I can't move. I can hardly breath. This is the most pain I've ever been in in my life.

I cover my face with my arms, trying to hide the tears. I must be strong if I'm going to get help from a sponsor. I'm so close to the end, I really only need bandages to stop the bleeding. If I haven't lost too much already.

The cut on my back is long and deep. I'm no medical expert, but I'm sure I'm lucky to still be alive.

My head is throbbing. I close my eyes and try to focus on something other than my probable death.

The air is cool. It feels so nice. I can hear birds singing a cheery tune. How ironic. The sun warms my face as it rises into a new day...

And I can't help but think that it's not so bad, here. I wouldn't mind dying right now.

**Damon Ryder**

The cannon is loud and startles me out of sleep. I hear a chuckle from behind me and sit up. My heartbeat increases and I get a knot in my stomach.

_Uh-oh. _

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." I know that voice. It's snarky and cold-blooded. It's sarcastic. It shows no mercy. It's Jay Red.

Sure enough, when I turn my head, there he is. Tall and deadly. I fumble for a weapon, but I can't find one.

"Oh, shoot. I think you lost them," he says, glancing to the side. I follow his gaze and see all my supplies - including my daggers - lying in a neat little pile.

My head is spinning. I'm defensless and sitting in front of a psychopath. If only I could reach my daggers...

I wrap my fingers around a rock and throw it at his head. Sitting down, my aim is off and I hit his chest. As he struggles to catch his breath, I scramble in the direction of my stuff.

I've just wrapped my hand around the handle of one of my blades when something sharp hits my back. I slump down and try to asess the damage.

The knife hit me in the lower-back. It's painful, but not deadly. I slowly reach behind me and begin to pull it out, but the pain is so blinding I let it go with a cry.

"Oh, you poor thing," he says, mockingly. "Here, let me help you..."

**Jay Red**

I tug the knife out of his back, grab his hair in my hand, pull his head back, and slit his throat before he can protest. The sound of his cannon is satisfactory. Some may think it's sick. But you don't win the Games by being compassionate.

Three people left. How exciting. All Careers, too. Predictable.

I wipe my knife on the grass and look at Damon's things. Aside from the daggers, none of it looks of good use to me. I wrap it all in his blanket and stuff it under a dead log.

It's almost noon now. Time to look for the District Four tributes and kill them off, one at a time.

**Blanco Gates, Head Gamemaker**

Jay searches for the others all day with no luck. They're spread too far apart to find one another on their own. I look at my control panel for a switch or a button that will cause them to come together.

A fire? Maybe. A flood could work. No, the ones from Four can swim. An earthquake? Oh, the possibilites of two of them being killed from that are too high. Then there would be no grand finale.

Luckily, my problems are solved. Brooke finds Rip around 5:00. They argue a bit about betrayal and representing their district before Brooke punches him in the nose, effectively breaking it.

Enraged, Rip grabs his trident and takes a couple stabs at her, but his pain has made his aim terrible. She easily dodges his attacks. In fact, she takes his weapon right out of his hand and uses it to skewer him through the stomach.

Ouch. Killed by your own weapon.

Brooke walks away, leaving Rip's trident beside him. I check his tracker, which is still picking up a faint heartbeat. A minute later it stops, and another Gamemaker fires the cannon.

That's three deaths today. The sun sets, and the pictures of Rip Waters, Damon Ryder, and Reno Bolven are projected into the sky. Jay and Brooke share the same menacing smile.

This is going to be the showdown of a lifetime.


	28. Arise

**A message from The Panda: Because it's the end, it will all be from Blanco's POV. I hope you all enjoyed the story! Don't forget to vote on my poll!**

**Huggles,**

**The Panda**

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><p><em>Arise<em>

**Blanco Gates, Head Gamemaker**

I love using remote-control hovercraft.

It's the last day, so I'm going through the arena and... tidying up a bit. Collecting any weapons, supplies, clothing, etc. left by other tributes so that none of it can be used in the final battle.

Oh. Look at that. Rip's armor. It's sitting there, out in the open, by the riverbed. He must have left it there when he bathed a couple days ago. He hardly even used it. It's a shame, really, the things tributes lose.

There. I'm done. Now, back to the control room to oversee the finale.

Brooke is finishing all her food. Smart. She knows she'll need the energy to win. When she's done, she licks her fingers and sets out to find Jay.

He is already looking for her. He has been all morning. He's eager.

He's close, too. Maybe we won't have to force them together. They're both armed, both dangerous. Both ready to win.

"No, _no, no,_ _no, no_!" I pound my fist on the counter as Jay walks east. An eight of a mile to his right, Brooke travels west. They almost had one another.

"Alright. Frans, cue the tremor." A moment later, the arena shakes. Jay is knocked off his feet, and Brooke falls against a tree, hitting her head. "Keep them coming, with more intensity. Move them to the Cornucopia."

Wind blows, trees fall, and the ground even splits, nearly killing Brooke. Each earthquake is longer and more frequent. It takes a while, but eventually both tributes make it to the clearing where it all began. They've acquired a few substantial injuries in the process. I look at the clock; it's already 2:00 in the afternoon. But their trouble has been entertaining enough.

Jay draws a sword. Brooke already holds hers in an iron grip. Jay swings his, attempting to intimidate her, but it hangs limply. The injury Hime gave his hand is holding him back. He switches his weapon to his left hand, but he's not half as good as he is with his right. I saw him in training.

Brooke chuckles to herself. "Get a close-up on them, now!" I say urgently. I see brooke's face on the big screen, then Jay's. Both of them are sweating from the earthquakes.

"Too bad, Jay," Brooke teases. "You got so close. Just to be taken down by a little girl from Seven." He growls and lifts his weapon. She tenses.

"Or so you think," he says and charges. She's not quick enough; he slices her side.

Brooke doubles over as blood pours out of her wound. She tries to stop the flow, but the cut is too deep. Jay comes up behind her and lifts his blade, but Brooke swings her sword around her back and cuts his thigh.

Jay freezes in shock, assessing the injury. In his pause, Brooke kicks his stomach and knocks him over. She swiftly disarms him and pins him to the ground, pressing the hilt of her sword into his throat, cutting off his air supply all but completely. She uses her sweatshirt as a mediocre bandage, gasping in pain.

Jay's face goes from a deep red to a shade of purple. He passes out. Brooke rolls off of him and clasps her side, unable to finish him off.

"We need to get her to kill him," I say.

"How?" another Gamemaker asks.

"I don't know, just make it happen!"

Minutes pass. Brooke loses more blood. Her face turns a ghostly white. She may actually bleed to death before she kills Jay.

"Blanco, we can't force her to do it."

"It doesn't matter now. She's almost done anyway."

"Sir, he's waking up." I turn to the main screen and see Jay open his eyes. He coughs, cringes, and brings his hand to his head. Brooke looks at him in horror, realizing that she must act now or he will kill her.

She holds her hand on her side and picks up her sword rather pathetically. By now Jay is aware enough to reach for his sword as well, but Brooke knocked it a few feet to the left when she disarmed him. She takes a step forward as he struggles to reach his weapon, the one thing that can save his life.

It's too little, too late. Brooke stumbles forward, hardly able to walk, and falls just as she reaches Jay. Her sword impales his ribcage, plunging into his lung. He struggles against death for a moment, in vain. His heart stops. A cannon blasts. The announcement is made. But Brooke lies on the ground, motionless.

"Is she alive?" I ask, turning to the monitor.

"Yes, we're picking up a faint pulse." I move to a microphone, one that will bring my voice to the arena.

"Brooke Waters, this is Blanco Gates, Head Gamemaker. Arise, Victor of the 176th Hunger Games!" To my great confusion, my voice does not bring her to move. "Pick her up," I say, and a claw drops out of the hovercraft, carefully picking her up and raising her into the sky.

"Well done, everyone. Another successful year!" I say, shaking hands with everyone. It was a very successful year, indeed.


End file.
